Sweet Dreams are Made of These

Nik, I hope you’re not mad. I had a dream about Rusty the other night, and it was a goooooooood dream. No, we didn’t “get it on,” but he did look in my eyes and kiss me like I’ve never been kissed before. Oh ya. I woke up smiling, and then I called Charise to ask “What does it all mean?” That’s when Charise said something so cute. “You know how in Heaven, we’re taught that all things will be revealed? Wouldn’t it be great if there was a Dream Interpertation 101 course you could take and find out what they all mean?” I had to agree with her on that one. Not only because of the Rusty dream, but last night I had a dream that will probably upset my sisters. I swore not to think about Eric, talk about Eric, and definitely not DREAM about Eric. But alas, last night I dreamed I went to Chicago to find him. I don’t know why-he isn’t in Chicago at the moment, though he spends most of his holidays there. I woke up with the overwhelming desire to log on to expedia.com and find out what kind of deals I could come up with. Why? Why does a stupid dream have such an effect on me? And why can’t I dream about things that are feasible, like going to the fridge for a piece of cheese or taking a walk to the park? I can DO these thing, they can be a reality. Rusty can not be reality. I don’t even want that to be a reality. Eric…well, we all know that story. Almost a reality, but never quite there. The most frustrating thing ever. Don’t worry, Nik. I’ve really been diving into the How to Spot a Dangerous Man book, and I’m taking the lessons to heart. How did I get on this subject? This blog has no direction today…I have no direction today. But you know, it is kind of nice being all scattered. Sort of like scattered rain showers in the summer time. Everybody loves those!