In my dream last night I was blogging. Well, I wasn't really blogging, I was getting ready to blog. Apparently I needed to be in the right setting to properly write my indended post, so I was on the top floor of a skyscraper with glass windows all around and sleek modern furniture filling the cavernous space. Now, those of you who know me, know that I would NEVER be on the top floor of a glass enclosed skyscraper! I would also never be surrounded by sleek modern furniture. And I most certainly would never be dressed as I was in my dream: 4 inch high heels, full, swinging skirt, and a tight fitting sweater. With pearls at my neck. And fluffy curly hair.
There was someone there that I didn't know, but she was helping me get my computer set up, get my notes located in my notebook, making sure the desk and chair were facing the view out the window, and catering to the only other person who was there. My grandson, Jacob. Okay, I guess of everyone in my family, Jacob is the one person who would have really appreciated the subject of my blog that day: my lunch date with him, and Oprah!
Now I never saw Oprah in my dream, and I also didn't see this supposed lunch I shared with her and Jacob. All I was doing was getting ready to blog about it and that part went on forever it seemed. Back and forth I walked, my spikey heels clicking on the black highly polished floor, my skirt swaying back and forth as I hurried between a table and the desk, carrying papers and files, but never getting anything done. And there was Jacob, asking questions, making comments, reminding me not to forget to write such and such, getting in my way and totally preventing me from writing my blog about lunch with him and Oprah.
I have not a clue where this came from. I hadn't talked to Jacob yesterday, nor do I even remember thinking about him. (Sorry Jacob!) And I certainly hadn't been thinking about Oprah, and, no, I didn't watch her Big Give show. I am scared of heights and especially big glass windows connected with heights, I don't like modern furnishings, I don't wear 4 inch high heels, and lunch with Oprah would be the farthest thing from my mind.
Maybe it all means that I have been really struggling with my blog recently and I have stooped to the depths of blogging about my dreams. If that's the case, let's hope it's Dr. McDreamy tonight instead of Oprah!