Difficult dreams last night.Ā Iād intercepted a message, a text of some sort.Ā Basically the United States had been surreptitously attacked and was buying itās continued existence (itās possible that the EARTH had been attacked and was buying itās continued existence) by annihilating whole social classes ā basically anyone āworthā less than a million dollars was going to be culled to make room for our new rulers.Ā It was going to happen about a week from the message Iād intercepted and I had a hope to escape it, but not much of oneā¦
But it was a recurring dream, and Iād escaped it once before through the cunning use of a particular sequence of numbers and the cooperation of Kristen (in a stunning, flowing white dress perhaps stolen from Zackās [of the Bella Birds] dream) but this time Kristen just wanted to give in.Ā Have a great week and give in.Ā
And so I spent a week in the dream trying to convince her otherwise, seeing other people slowly hear the news and fight or give in, the world going to Hell.Ā Almost as our time is up, Kristen decides she wants to Live after all and I wake up suddenly realizing Iād forgotten the sequence of numbers and that there was no hope because Iād forgotten and we were going to die because Iād forgottenā¦
Iām feeling a decade on the road today. Ha, it hasnāt even been quite nine years yet! But my back is aching a bit and my heart is aching a bit and Iāve got that feeling of wanting to be in my OWN bed and squeeze my OWN cat (well, Amyās cat) and use my OWN wirelessā¦
Well, we go home tomorrow. And though weāre only home for about 40 hours before weāre back on the road, itāll be a necessary recharge.
Always running from one thing to another, I couldnāt wait to get back on the road, at the moment I canāt wait to get back home ā and yet Iām pretty excited about Pittsburgh too.
Looking at the calendar at the momentās a little intimidating.Ā A lot of things are springing faster than I want them too, not least of which is Harrison Fordās 70th birthday.Ā You know how important that is, donāt you?
Well ā off to kill time in Boston (real Boston, not Sommerville, not Cambridge, not Jamaica Plains) and then Pesky J. Nixon and Hugh McGowan!