Last night I dreamed I had a blog that I'd forgotten. (Actually, I do have one I no longer show and another that I can't find any more. These things are like ex-girlfriends.) [Author's note: After I posted this item and the image, there was a very disturbing story about some depraved stalker of Uma Thurman. It sounds like that man needs help, and I hope people leave poor Uma alone.]In the dream, I pondered what I might write about in this newly re-discovered blog, why had I abandoned it, what long neglected story threads might I string back together...
Last night on the train, I did what I said I'd do: I worked on my book. It felt good, though I realized somewhere between Maplewood and Millburn that I need to pay closer attention to where I am or I might not have time to get off the train with my laptop intact.
I believe the dream was a sign to me to continue writing, to reawaken my thoughts. I'm sinking into myself again, I suspect. I apologize for all the self-centered blog posts that may follow.
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