i've been having the craziest dreams, lately.
some of this may have something to do with the nyquil i've been popping,
but that only accounts for the last two nights.
it's been a while now
since i've been falling hard and fast asleep,
and waking up with my body near paralyzed, and my head still in the realm of night.
this morning, early, an alarm went off in another room.
it woke me out of a dream and i said out loud to anna and tim:
"i'm at a flea market across from the farm."
i knew exactly what i meant.
and yet, i still made my way downstairs as i do every morning,
hair sticking out all directions and feet slipped into old ballet flats.
i start the kettle,
and feed the cats,
and turn off the front light,
and bring in the milk,
and rouse some girls.
and while i'm dropping no less than four black tea bags into the teapot,
i'm still thinking about the words in my dream
that i was speaking
to a boy i knew so long ago,
standing in the middle of a house
my husband and i used to rent in the summer.
and it all
seems
to make sense.
if only until the water boils.
more soon.
xo,
tt.
