Things to Come

It's Day Five here.
Have managed to fuck up the personal domain transfer already.
Which means I can't look at the blog.
Not to mention anyone else.
Just noticed my peppermint tea has a message on the bag.
"Tough time don't last. Tough people do."
Well, darlin', then I am here to stay. 
Am built for the long haul.


Had the strangest dream last night. Somewhere outside of Las Vegas I was in this fancy hotel teaching a seminar with some of my favorite magical friends. Was luxuriating in the fancy hotel room, drinking coffee, flipping through my messages, contemplating taking a long hot soak, when my friend comes in informing me California is shutting down. We have to leave right away. I don't quite believe them, but follow outside. Across the desert in the far distance I see a mauve-tinged cloud settling on the horizon. There's people yelling into a loud speaker. It echoes bizarrely. In the sky are two planes. But they're not really planes. They look like spidery versions of a stealth aircraft. And worse, they're segmented together, spinning around in a mechanically infernal dance. It's horrible. Turning, I run back to the room. Only the path is gravel now. It feels like I'm running through jello. There's a long stream of people holding shepherd's crooks following a path in the opposite direction. I make it back to the room. Of course, dream logic, it's a different room. While packing I come across these ancient coins I found. Am fascinated by them. Different metals. Different ages. Different patterns. So great. Then, I remember I'm supposed to hurry and shove them all into a bag. Walking outside, the weird craft thing is still moving like two mating spiders--if spiders mated through their legs.

I wake up for real and remember...

As a small child I was terrified by machinery. Not kinda scared but screaming at the top of my lungs scared. When the garbage truck would flip the trash up and squish it down, I would cry. I had waking nightmares about garbage trucks scooping me up and grinding me into sausage. When they tore out the orange groves next to our house, I watched the giant diggers paralyzed by fright. The way the mechanical jaws moved and tore at the earth was more than I could handle. I'd hide in bed, pulling the covers over my face while I cried. As you can imagine my parents were baffled. And then they were angry. And then I grew out of it. And then forgot all about it.

All those feelings and memories came rushing back this morning. The mind really is a monkey. 

Mechanophobia? Is that a thing? I think it is. 
Until later....