Ok, so I feel like my last post was a cop-out. Really I just wanted to post the link to the bag thing. Sorry about that.
The past couple weeks I’ve been slammed, both at work & at home. We’ve been trying to wrap the August issue of Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue by TOMORROW so that I can have copies in hand for the release party/back yard concert I’m holding on the 7th.
I’m feeling doubtful that it’s going to happen. Again, I feel like I’m doing more than my share of pushing to wrap this. I know a lot of our staff has had a lot of crap to deal with lately, but for Pete’s sake, would it kill a person to drop an occasional email, even if it’s to just say “no” or “ain’t gonna happen” outright?!?
Stephan, if you’re reading this, let me know who you have to take over layout next issue. The only thing I want to do with the next one is the cover. (I’m working on getting someone else to do the internal art.)
So that’s been stressing me out a bit.
Then there’s the concert. Yeah. I must have been nuts when I decided to do that. That’s stressing me out a bit as well. Not the actual hosting, mind you. I really don’t care what people think about our place, so I’m not stressing over cleaning or home improvements, etc. (though the plan IS to finally have the deck stained before people get here). What’s stressing me about the concert is the fact that I haven’t gotten a single confirmed “Yes.” And I was hoping for about 50. AGHHHH!
That stuff aside, our littler munchkin officially turned two over the weekend. Fortunately, at two he doesn’t expect much: cupcakes with sprinkles in Bob the Builder liners were exciting enough, and his favorite gift came from a yard sale.
No wonder I’ve been having weird dreams.
Take last night for instance. Let’s start with the fact that I went to bed later than I probably should have, coupled with the fact that I actually did some reading before I tried to go to sleep. I finally turned off my light to crash, but my dear husband was snoring up a storm. Eventually he shifted and I drifted off to sleep.
I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I do remember a business card and the man it belonged to. It was weird. In the dream, I met this guy and we were both like, “Don’t I know you? You look SO familiar!” Then we figured out that we had gone to the same college and had met at registration. He looked kinda like a young Bob Marley, but wore a cool Hawaiian type shirt in light blue cotton. His name was Jamie. And he was a part-time student, full-time business owner. His business: “Ethos Organic Boiled Peanuts,” which he sold here in South Carolina.
The dream and that “don’t I know you?” factor felt so real that I want to track down this mysterious man with the chocolate skin and demeanor just as sweet to tell everyone in the market for boiled peanuts to buy from him.
A few years ago, I had another similar dream experience. That time I woke up with a specific name in my head, a full name that I immediately looked up when I woke. The search turned up a veteran who died in the Gulf Conflict. It was eerie.