My mom emailed me a description of a dream she just had:
"I had a dream Thanksgiving night about finding that I owned a huge pile of beautiful multi-colored sand. The color orange predominated, but the sandpile radiated many colors. As I looked at it, I felt content and happy. I was also puzzled, because I knew the pile was too heavy to move anywhere; I knew it would have to stay where it was... As I contemplated it, I knew it was right for me. I removed a beautiful orange, gold-embroidered cloth that lay on it... But the sand was serenely beautiful even without the cloth, and I knew it belonged with me and I with it."
As for me I dreamed that Yogi Berra, the ancient ex-Yankees catcher, sent me a package of old stuff he'd been storing in his attic. Everything was dusty and his handwriting was difficult to read which made him that much more endearing.
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My rent is now two months overdue so I hope I get a job immediately. UPS let me know they won't be needing me. The brewery was closed today but they remain my best hope. This all weighs heavily on me. December settles in. In the Spring I bet I will be singing like a meadow lark, but now I grumble like a bear.
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