The summer has been one wonderful blur and there's still August to go. I'm not even going to bother saying what's on the agenda. I'll just sound like an asshole. I don't think I've ever been quite this busy, for such a long and consistent stretch, in my life. It's not an overwhelming busy, like say, caring for a newborn. It's not particularly stressful either. Or maybe I don't get stressed out like I used to. I just let stuff drop and you know what, everything turns out OK.
Back in January, the OTHER Rebecca sent a postcard saying she drew the 8 of wands for me for 2010. Pretty accurate.
Chris and I have already decided that in 2011 we're going to be couch potatoes. I know that's not going to happen. But it's a good dream.
Two dreams last night of being pregnant. In one, my dad helped me move boxes into my Grandmother's house. Guess I worked out whatever was going on back in early-mid July. Lots of pregnancy dreams -- I hope that's a positive indication about these poems I'm trying to write. I don't like anything I'm writing these days. I want that to change.
Speaking of dreams, I haven't seen Inception yet and it's killing me. I'm going to see it Weds. I've done a good job of avoiding spoilers, so don't go spoiling it for me.
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