Sometimes the more you write a word, the more weird it looks. I just found that to be true with the word "tradition."
Currently, I am upholding my tradition of fleeing to Barnes & Noble on my day off. Mondays are my new favorite day of the week. Happiness is a warm pumpkin spice chai, a window seat, gray skies, and the fact that it's still early afternoon. (Consistent readers may note that I changed locations since the public library incident. Barnes and Noble has been much less drama-filled.)
A couple of nights ago I had a dream that I was in Germany already. While I was there, I was wondering how time went so fast, because it felt like I was there. I know for a fact that I am not alone in wondering where the heck dreams come from & how they work. How do they feel so real? And what part of my "subconscious" wanted to be stuck on the shoulder of the freeway with some random high school acquaintance? I like it that we still can't know for certain where dreams come from. It keeps humans human. Even the doctor types with "theories". My youth pastor used to always say that he has a list of questions he wants to ask God when he gets to heaven. (On top of the list is "Why are the pits in avocados so big?" That's valuable avocado space!) I think I will ask about dreams..
My state of contentment is being accompanied by this song, which kind of makes me feel like I'm walking through the movie Inception.
Happy Oktober :)
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