Just went to put on my walking clothes and then realized...I...just...can't.
I'm exhausted. Flat-out done, toasted, cooked and not up for it.
I dreamed this morning that I was sick and my mother walked into the house and said, "You're high! You've been smoking pot and you're high!"
And I was like, "No. I'm sick. I don't get high."
She wouldn't believe me. I was so mad.
Then I dreamed I was in a foreign land. Don't know which one but I was still sick and I had the rattiest dog you've ever seen or smelled. I had to catch that dog and hold it while I was eating at a restaurant which was in a former church and the table was outside, absolutely beautiful, and I was served the most delicious salad of chopped cabbage with a very simple dressing and the server was so nice and kept offering me more tea and water and soup and I kept thanking her over and over.
Maybe I need some nurturing.
Maybe I'm about to die.
I don't know but I do know that I don't need a dog. Of this I am certain.
I think I'll slowly, slowly make my way to Monticello to actually and truly early vote. I was going to do it yesterday but my damn bread-making interfered. Sometimes it seems like I spend half my life waiting on bread to rise. Oh well. There are worse things in the world.
Happy Friday, y'all.