Clearly the stress has started to take its toll. My mind is breaking slowly, but certainly. Last night I had a dream that we had a dog, a big dog, named Buckley. At some point in the course of things, he was knighted by the Queen.

Apparently this was not according to the plan, because someone said, “We didn’t get into this just so Buckley could get knighted.”

Let’s not get sidetracked here, people. It’s good that the people in my dream can stay on point.

More distressingly, Sir Buckley got pepper sprayed at one point. I have no idea why, but it was entirely unnecessary. Then I woke up, probably to the sound of a dog barking outside.

I have this reoccurring dream, I’ve been having it since I was very little. It goes like this (originally written July 15, 2008):

I have this dream mostly involving being outside of a huge, but clearly abandoned mansion or castle. Vivid details, like dead leaves from a hundred different autumns collecting behind giant black urns on one of the back patios. The dust and grit from rain and wind keep reading »