dictation's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the beast within has the last laugh My subconscious can turn vicious on a dime. The massive vomiting of two lukemia-stricken people into soup bowls at a dining room table I was dressing didn't inspire much laughter I'm afraid. This dream repeated and repeated. Before sleep, I'd clutched a rose quartz heart I'd given to my mother to hold during her dying. Mistake? No. I'm pretty sure it must be the progesterone cream. I applied too much before going to bed. It's a tricky hormone. Work is seriously creeping me out right now. I've got a bad case of insecurity and writer's block compounded by cynicism and bitterness. Not a good thing. Oh well, it's bake sale tomorrow. I can always stuff my face to soothe my nerves. It's worked before! 8:05 a.m. - 02 June 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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