Because dreams are so important to me, I’ve written several posts about dreams (including here, here, here, here, here, here, and here) since I started dreaming this blog. When I look at those previous dreamy posts, I realize I wrote each one never dreaming we’d have the U.S. President we have today.
Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night from a very scary dream where morphing people and frightening creatures were staring me in the face and grasping me by the hand. I immediately posted on Facebook:
I was having a bad dream and just woke up to another bad dream.
My friend Marc Zegans soon replied with this dream of a comment:
Here‘s something a little sweeter to dream by.
Before I had those dreams, I spent yesterday looking at a possible dream house for me and my dreamy boyfriend Michael with our dream of a real estate agent, Jane C. Hoffmann.
While I was taking photos of Jane, she was also taking photos of me and Michael (which was probably a nightmare for him, since he hates to have his picture taken).
Today, we might make an offer on a dreamy house by the sea in Quincy, Massachusetts. If we don’t end up in that dream house, we’ll end up in another one.
Quincy, by the way, is called “The City of Presidents.” I wonder if John Adams, John Quincy Adams, or John Hancock — who were all born in Quincy — ever dreamed we’d have the kind of U.S. President we have today.
In four days, I’ll be turning 64 years old, an age nobody ever dreamed I’d reach when I was born in 1953 with a very unusual heart.
I shall now look to all the other dreamy photos I took yesterday for ideas about how to live and dream in the future:
I trust you know I have the intelligence and integrity to express my thanks to all who helped me create this dream of a post and to you — of course! — for your dream of a visit, here and now.
