It's been an interesting week, but mostly quiet. I do have a few things I felt like getting out of my system though.

I had a weird half-conversation with my mother today. Those of you who've followed my past entries know very well where this usually leads. I restrained myself today, barely.

She told me if I needed to talk about something that she was a good listener, and I have to admit I cringed internally at that remark. She apparently already forgot the last time I tried to talk to her, almost a year ago.

Last night I asked her for some help rearranging my bed since it's a big, heavy wood frame job with a bookshelf-like headboard that takes two people to do anything with.

Anyway, this led to a bit of straightening up. I didn't notice she'd picked up the FedEx packaging I'd been using to store my extra scrunchies. She looked inside, set them on my desk and tossed the package away.

I've taken great strides over the years to try and hide who I am for their comfort, but when you're in my personal space, I draw the line. I figure that probably got her attention, but I'm waiting awhile before I start leaving pairs of heels in plain sight yet. ;-)

I know, I know. I need to get out of here, but one step at a time.

I dreamed about the church again last night. Actually I dreamed about a lot of things, including the next chapter in my novel (now up to chapter 14, going to work on 15 after I post this), but the church scene seemed most directly personally related.

The last dream involved me as a girl of about 16. I remember vividly that I was wearing a pretty easter dress despite the fact that I was there to deliver a eulogy for a man I didn't know or recognize (It wasn't me in the coffin. That would've woken me right the heck up :-P)

Noone seemed to mind, and in fact several "friends" were there.

This last one was much, much more brief, and casual, with me as the same girl wearing jeans and ankle boots. I remember sitting near the center of the church by the aisle. I DISTINCTLY remember crossing my legs because, on some level, I was aware that it was such an easy thing to do now, and picked up a red bible from a shelf built into the back of the pew in front of me.

I remember having trouble keeping up with the sermon. The text was like it was in another language. The only words I did actually recognize were the "Holy Bible" on the front and on the first page.

After looking between the preacher and the garbled text several times, I suddenly woke up.

I'm pretty sure there's a lot of strong symbolism going on there, as my more vivid dreams like these usually mean something, but I don't have the patience or desire to try and interpret it right now. I just felt like sharing it as another wacky insight into my messed-up head. :-) Back to writing!

Best wishes,
~Zoe T.