Lately I’ve been remembering more of my weird dreams. Last night I watched myself watching the Buffy finale. I knew exactly how it ended. And it all made sense, in the most satisfying way. Setting myself up for some serious disappointment, methinks. But that segued right into a trip. I’d taken the little man to NYC for some reason. Maybe to see family. Maybe to eat at Healthy Henrietta’s or Angelica Kitchen. Not sure. But we returned home via a magic bus…though it didn’t seem like magic at the time. It was kind of like a flying carpet ride…and I worried that the little man was going to fall off. And I worried and worried and worried some more. So much so that suddenly we were safe and sound in a car. Stuck in a rush hour traffic jam on 94. With my step-mother in the passenger seat, complaining about how filthy my car was. The end.
Psst…only four more hours to Matrix-time. If you’ve seen Reloaded already, please don’t spill any spoilers. Especially if you sit two desks over and are recapping with the guy who sits in between us. I do have super-mom hearing you know, even with my headphones on.