Yeah...and so, anyway...

Since I've begun this new stage of recovery, I've been given the gift of being able to remember my dreams each night. Sometimes I write them down in my journal, sometimes I don't. But I still remember parts of them, more than likely the most important parts. I have two dream dictionaries, but for some reason, they don't seem to fully capture the meaning of my night journeys. Those dictionaries seem to deal with common symbols or themes known to psychology. I don't mean to sound "terminally unique", but my dreams only partially conform to psychological symbols or themes. However, I have some pretty awesome angels who help me understand things that truly used to baffle me. The first dream is common to any recovering addict. It's the relapse dream, or nightmare, as I see it. It took place in the house in South Sacramento that my family lived in after we moved from Tacoma, Washington in 1973, and I spent my teens and early twenties there. I did som...

I had what I thought was great idea for a blog yesterday afternoon. Unfortunately, it was lost to the puzzling haze that functions as my brain these days. What was it? Too many changes, I guess. But I wouldn't have it any other way. At least I think so. It's hard to tell what I think because all manner of toxic stuff is leaving my system. I was too sick to go to work for most of this week, and when I came back today, I was a bit overwhelmed. There were all the regular students in the tutoring center, plus what seemed to be a hundred more. Like I said, it's hard to think. I don't know if it was ten or a hundred. Whatever the number was, it was too many. Luckily, I was called in to do a workshop called "Preparing for the Writing Proficiency Exam". I could do the presentation on automatic pilot because I'm very familiar with the topic. I used to score that test when I was in grad school the first time. Not to mention that there were only two stu...