So last night I had a stress dream about CP Prize: I showed up hideously late (like, 1 p.m.).
Then I had semi-stressy/mostly weird dreams about the upcoming OWN workshop.
Then I dreamt about my family/upstate NY, not stressy, but weird because I was explaining the geography of Lake Champlain and Valcour Island to someone who should’ve known better, and then I woke up sad because my dad had been alive and healthy in the dream. Although, in hindsight, that’s how I’m happier remembering him.
Now I’m dashing about trying to get a million last-minute things done before we leave for San Diego. Ken, being a god among men, is mending my leine. (Great job, Dayle, remembering your leine needed mending when you went to pack it, as opposed to, oh, three days ago.) On the way down we’re stopping at the garment district to buy the awesome fabric we found for our antique Morris chair (we brought a swatch home yesterday to hold it up to the living room curtain fabric) and somewhere so Ken can buy a GPS. Once we’re in the hotel, I have to work on a soon-due short story (it’s funny! it’s sexy! it’s paranormal!) and read more Agatha Christie and PD James for the upcoming workshop.
Aieeee. Okay, time to resume dashing about!