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Dream:
I'm walking a long corridor, and the protraits on the walls are watching me. I enter a room at the end of the hallway, and there is an old, old man in a chair before the fire. I kneel before him, and he puts a communion wafer on my tongue, only it's not a communion wafer because it tastes like rain and roses and forgiveness.
There's a cat on his lap, and it speaks to me...I can't understand what it's saying. Something about how Egypt was a river once, and there was a snake in the first Nile....
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The Moment
CD: Sacred and Profane, a Traveling Mix
Book: The Stranger
Outside: blue skies, pretty clouds
Doing: making lists again
Link: bittersweets.org
Horoscope: "If you're heading to a reunion, make sure
someone stellar (and steadfast) is by your side."
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"either he was up to no good, or he just liked watching things burn down"
Dar Williams, "when Sal's Burned Down"
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Reality:
The housesitter has visited and got the key, the laundry is mostly done, the bedroom is in order, the dishes are done, the garbage is out, the mix tape is made, and the recycling went out last night.
All that's left to do is pack.
My god. I'm actually doing this, aren't I?
It seems so strange, so adult, to be going off on an actual real vacation, a visit to the dark heart of the country where it will be breathlessly hot and more than a little damp. I've never done this for real before—most of my vacations have been quick jaunts here and there, always with a goal in mind, always in relentless motion. But I have a week and a half to relax and rest my mind and enjoy the company of my girl and some friends I've not seen in a very long time.
I won't be updating for that time. I also won't be reading or answering email. This is going to be a digital-free vacation, except for me submitting my columns this weekend sometime.
Anyway. I'll see all of you when I get back.
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