I am NOT an Accountant, and other musings

Oooooooo ... I just learned something new about myself! For some reason I decided to check out my blog profile and I saw, to my shock, that my "industry" was listed as accounting. What??!! Talk about an error! Of all vocations possible in life, accounting is not something I would ever do. There's nothing wrong with accountants -- I'm glad they're around. I'm glad there are people who are so skilled to work with numbers as I enjoy working with words. While I guess I could do it to some degree if I put my mind to it (I used to work in a bank years ago, oddly enough), it's just not something I'm comfortable with. Trust me -- you don't want me working with your bank account. Thankfully I found a profile industry option called "museums and libraries" so I selected that one (even though now I'm not working in either of them -- I just visit them). Maybe some day I'll be back, but at least now I'm correctly represented in Blog World!

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I had one of those bizarrely realistic dreams last night -- or rather, very early this morning, the kind where you can remember every detail and you can almost swear it actually occurred. Don, myself, and the kids were in town and we paid a visit to our local library (except it looked nothing like our local library). This super-cool library sported a huge theater (aaaahhh, I love dreams ...) and that afternoon's showing was a documentary of sorts about the history of the library -- about the founders, their role in the town, some history of the town itself, etc. We purchased tickets and settled in our seats about 3 rows from the back. Don sat on the aisle seat, then Aidan, then myself ... and Grace was being Grace, running wild all over the place. I vividly remember my feelings in this dream: I was mortified that was she running around so wildly, I felt desperate, I felt annoyed, I wondered "Why can't she just sit still for 5 minutes? Why did we even come here?" We decided we had to leave, since Grace showed no signs of behaving (or listening to us), and just as the movie started, Don and I outflanked her and hustled out of the theater. I then felt angry; "Here we go again, having to miss something really cool because of our wild daughter."

When we stepped outside into the library's huge park-like spaces, we saw cars lining up for their valet service (yes, this was SOME library!). One shiny, new Cadillac-type car pulled up near where we were standing ... and out stepped my grandmother! I was shocked ... and yet not so surprised, for apparently the fact that she's been dead for a few years had been either forgotten or considered an insignificant point. She was beautiful and about 20+ years younger than when she died. Her skin was radiant and flawless and a bit tanned (it's funny how you remember these kinds of details), and her hair was shockingly snow white. She had on a white cardigan and white accessories (my grandmother was the Queen of Accessories): earrings, beaded necklace, bracelet, shoes. I don't remember what dress she wore, but I think it was something with a bright green and white pattern. The odd thing was that when she began to talk to me, I suddenly couldn't hear her because there was so much noise in the background. I put my arm around her (oh, it felt so good to touch her! I can still feel the fabric of her sweater ...) and as I began to try to talk to her ...

"Sue, it's time to get up. The kid are awake." 6:45 a.m.

I was very, very sad when I woke up. Not only do I hate waking up while in the midst of a dream (it's very hard to do!), but my grandmother instantly vanished, with a smile on her face, as soon as I heard Don's voice. I had so many things I wanted to talk to her about ...

Dreams absolutely fascinate me. I would love to study dream analysis some day. I so very, very often remember my dreams so there would be an endless supply of fodder for analysis. I wonder what this one represented ... I also had a strange one weeks ago that I was bitten by a snake -- it was horrible.

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We're on Day 3 of Aidan's illness but thankfully he's on the mend. The thermometer read only one degree (99.6), so he's still fighting the remnants of something. I think one more day at home should do the trick. Besides, he cannot miss school on Friday, because their class visitor that day is a true-blue firefighter. And no one else can catch this thing because on Saturday night Don and I -- as well as a few friends -- are going New York (city) to visit friends there in their new apartment, and celebrate a birthday. This is our first real outing with a group of new friends since we've been here -- an important, "we've finally arrived" kind of milestone that we can't miss. Did I just jinx the whole thing by writing it down? :) I hope not. Pray for health!