42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

Halfway through my second quarter of grad school, I feel like an old hand. A tired, old, old hand.
I briefly contemplated the idea of going home between quarters in late March and eventually ruled it out because:

I’m underemployed and therefore broke.
I am so stressed it would be nice to sit on my butt for a [...]

Read the rest of Beyond stress to crazyland

Today is the first day of class. My first on-campus class begins tomorrow, but I can already look at syllabuses for all three of my classes and start thinking about freaking out when I read guidelines for APA style. (Freak, freak!)
My online class starts today. It’s asynchronous, meaning that I don’t meet at a specific [...]

Read the rest of And let it begin: Rusty girl begins grad school

What I want is to wake up from my nightmare, and maybe get a hug from my dad. He will tell me everything is going to be OK. It was just a bad dream. I didn’t waste the last 14 years of my life.

Read the rest of What I want

I rarely write about my dreams any more. I’m not sure why. Maybe I get busy, or lazy. It seems hard to write down the words to bizarre imaginings I barely remember now that I’m awake.
In fact, a search of my I must be dreaming category shows that the last time I wrote an entry [...]

Read the rest of Distorting reality

I dream I hear a bunch of noise outside. I am living in a weird conglomeration of the place I grew up, where my dad lives, and where I live now.
Outside the window, I notice that the pool — larger in my dream — and hot tub have been covered. I am glad because some [...]

Read the rest of Closing in

Disclaimer: For those of you tired of reading about my cat, skip this post. This is not an attempt to garner further sympathy but just to chronicle how I felt when I woke up Sunday morning.
I dimly awake and hear a faint meow.
I’m so groggy that it’s disembodied.
It sounded like Stinky.
The light in the bedroom [...]

Read the rest of Echoes of memory

I’m living in what’s little more than a shack in the middle of nowhere, in the country. I think there’s a small gathering of buildings that speak to an old, failed town. A handful of houses and a dilapidated gas station and convenience store.
It’s a golden, dusty place. One that’s only going to be devastated [...]

Read the rest of Shooting tornadoes