I had a fine prodromic dream last night, in which I was moving out of my house, and the whole thing was empty, and I was sweeping the last bit of trash from the floors and thinking I needed to get the boxes of books I had packed up to give to the Other Liberal Professor over to her place before I Moved On...
Not the sort of dream that's all that comforting right before you go in for your CT to see if there's a "little tumor hanging around up there," in other words.
But I did finish the first draft of the last book of my SF trilogy, just this morning -- so that's done.
34 minutes ago
1 comment:
Those are the kinds of dreams that moving on dust are made. You dream, you ponder, you reason, and then you do it, you move right to another state or a hill or a place near the hill. Well you get it. The dream I had before they did the surgery to take out my reproductive crap, after I already went through the change, was I was falling off a cliff and there was the great big nose at the bottom. I didn't think the nose would block my fall but I thought if I was going to fall better hit a nose than a wall, then I'd wake up all cold and sweaty.
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