...
The power went out again last night, so I got a nap then, dreaming of that imaginary town between Westport and Fort Bragg again, and being asked to take over command of firefighters. All kinds of celebrity caricatures were running to beat me to the punch, but kept being zapped by the flames and floating up in little electrified bubbles. Again the town was full of buildings and rooms that were missing ceilings and roofs and sometimes most of their walls. People everywhere. None of them taking any note of my authority, but mostly because nothing was actually burning, except to engulf the caricatures, and were just resisting taking an organized and thoughtful and competent adult approach for when the emergencies might arise.
So, but, now I do truly feel that wasn't enough sleeping or dreaming for me to remain upright in the face of this shit, and you might pardon me for suspecting that this is all being titrated out in such a way as to enhance its effect or blunt our aim or just drive me over the edge.
There are certain things no control file or threat ought to be able to produce, and they're popping up ALL over the place again. Keeps taking me to the brink of supremely unladylike ranting and distracting from it just in the nick of time. Like it's a plot. A plot against all of us.
So I'm now officially needing a nap.
pipe up any time....
