We’re All Nuts and Dreams Prove It
I’m a dreamer. Literally. I have frequent dreams that are downright strange and I used to wonder about the images, their meaning, and what they portended for my life. No more. I’ve decided that just like everybody else on this planet, I’m nuts. And it really doesn’t matter.
Last night’s adventure was a family affair. I was supposed to fly to Denver with my 75-year old parents–to visit my two brothers who live there, I presume, but this wasn’t specified. Mom and Dad couldn’t get themselves ready and I was feeling impatient. Mom was putzing with something; Dad was wandering around. At one point, Dad decided to touch up a ceiling using an old can of white paint that was mostly dried out. The container was big–about the size of a black top sealer pail. In trying to scrape out enough paint to do whatever he was trying to do, he spilled big glops of paint on a light pink shag carpet. (Where in heaven’s name were we???)
After trying to scoop up the mess with his hands, he decided what the hell, he’d roll in it. Looked like fun to me, so I joined him! Good grief.
I woke up feeling confused and annoyed because I don’t think we ever got to the airport on time. Might be just as well; one of us might have been shot by an air marshal.
We’re nuts, I tell you. We’re all nuts.
Given that, why don’t we just look for something positive to contribute in our little circle of daily doings? Surely we can find something good to do or say?
Categories: General AdviceAbout Susan Marshall
