posh dreams and prone ambitions

It's Friday! Finally. I really started to doubt me getting through this week. It started dragging, oh, Monday morning. I can't wait for the drink that is waiting for me at our spot. It is a well deserved prize for making it through and not killing, maiming or seriously injuring myself or others. Especially toddlers...

I wanted to share a dream I had last night. I really didn't think I got enough sleep to qualify for an R.E.M. cycle, but I guess the four hours did the trick. My dream started out with me bringing my dog (a dog of the future obviously because I don't have a toy poodle, nor do I really want one so that's a little strange...) to the vet. But not just any vet, Satan's husband, the really hot and wealthy vet. The vet whom my doctor husband and I and Satan go on annual vacations with. Yes. Satan was married to a vet and they owned their own clinic, and I was married to an orthopedic surgeon. I'm sensing you realizing why I enjoyed this dream immensely. Anyway, after he checked the dog out we all went to lunch where Satan told us that she was going back to school to be a vet too. We decided to celebrate that night when my husband was off duty. That night we went to a bar in Minneapolis and smoked cigars and drank martinis, it was very posh. I don't really remember very much after that but my dream was pretty. Sigh, if only. Well, maybe she will marry a vet. I'll probably get a male nurse though... Ha ha.

It's almost time for me to go up front. Meaning I only have another hour of this godforsaken day before I can go get my books from the library and possibly take a nap, ah bed. I can hear you calling me from fifteen miles away. We'll be together soon Mon Cherie...