Crazy Dreams

I had crazy dreams last night. Could it be the jalapeno poppers I ate at Hermano Carlos's party? Or was it because I slept with the window open? Or am I just decompressing after a very long month of Pinktober?

In any event Gary and I were moving out West and met people with a big black, furry Pyrennes dog whom we fell in love with. (a subconscious wish?) They gave us the dog and the house they were living in, which did turn out to be a nightmare--water pumping out of the floor in the kitchen and living room which we furiously mopped up, like the Mickey Mouse character in Fantasia, only to have the water continue rising. A man with ulcerous, bleeding arms appeared at the door to help. We suddenly had some unspecified children who caused a fire by using a vacuum cleaner in the bedroom. These were, of course, not our real children, who wouldn't have been familiar with such a machine, at least while they lived at home.

No, I hadn't been watching Halloween horror movies and the 10 trick or treaters who appeared at my door were dressed like princesses, hobos and super heroes, not zombies.  But I did watch some of the Sandy one year anniversary news coverage. We are having the basement recarpeted, after the last minor seepage a few years ago precipitated a major overreaction on our part of ripping up carpet and exposing a decidedly ugly and stark cement floor, gray with splotches of red paint.

I am trying to "move on" in a sense, creating more balance between working for Metastatic Breast Cancer Network and living every day to the fullest. I started with a reappearance at the Y, where my ID was so old it didn't work anymore. One yoga class under my belt so far. I wonder why that didn't appear in my dream?