Morning Pages February 21

These have to be quick, as I have to work in one hour.

It snowed all night last night and it looks like December again. Under all the snow is the ice from the melting last week that froze again. I am grateful to have not fallen on my can going to and from the car last night. Hopefully this will keep all the people in their houses and away from Starbucks this morning. I don't particularly relish a busy morning today. I have a 7.5 hour shift on my feet and I am praying it will be an easy one. What I really want to do is stay here with my family and get things ready for the birthday party tomorrow. As it is, we'll be rushing around the day of, as usual because of uncoordinated work schedules and bad planning.

I dreamed this morning something really awful. I dreamed that my father committed suicide upstairs in our house, MY house right now, on the bed, and I was here with my mom and brother and my kids and I had to tell everyone. The thing is, I didn't know what happened to him, I just knew that he was dead, and when I left him up there, somehow he had turned into a huge, man-shaped mound of MEAT. As in, hamburger or something. In the dream I came downstairs crying and sobbing and I couldn't get my words out and I kept telling my mom that I didn't want to be the one, I didn't want to have to say it. . . .

Quentin asked me yesterday why dead people are put in graveyards, and I tried to answer him honestly without getting too detailed. I'm sure this sparked the crazy thoughts in my head. . . .

yeee.