I've been having disturbing dreams lately. While I was in San Diego, I had a dream that I was eating goldfish out of a fish tank upon the back of which a dirty, scabby, Ty Pennington was clinging and sucking algae like some terrible human suckerfish. Last night I had a dream that Angelina Jolie's body was stuffed under a manhole in my backyard, and I was the only one who knew about it. But while my subconscious is busy defiling celebrities, I've actually been feeling sort of strangely happy: a sort of calm before the storm feeling. Precipitous. San Diego seems to have rejuvenated me. I am finding that I have tremendous new reserves of both energy and tolerance with the girls. I am placid. Patient.
Reading This Book Will Save Your Life. Not my favorite A.M. Homes, but it's pretty good on the heels of a visit to southern California.