A dream I had, Emily in Paris, and my affair with positive affirmations.
And the absolute joy of a gluten full pastry.
Photo credit from Pinterest via Crisp Sheets, a sheet company.
Last night I had a dream that my house was leaking. I woke up to see a scattering of wet footprints from my husband’s vans. It looked like he had come in to say goodbye to me before leaving for work in the morning. Confused by the water, I woke up. Why is the floor wet? I called down to my kids, who were downstairs. I could hear the tv blaring. I must have slept in. I got out of bed to find my glasses on the bottom of my daughter’s dollhouse, stuck there at the bottom of the pretend pool. I headed down the stairs only to find more water. Puddles of it in the hallway. I looked up to see the wooden paneling of the walls near the ceiling darkened with wetness. Water dripped from the seams, creating small pools of water on the stairs. I turned to look at the ceiling of my daughter’s bedroom, where I had been sleeping, and sure enough, a leak had sprung from there too. Surrounding it was a large welted bubble. Had it been raining that hard and I just didn’t notice? Why didn’t my husband say anything? I continued down the stairs, calling to my children. Did you see all this water? What’s happened? As I walked down the stairs, the steps started to come loose. Some of them pointed at a downward angle. Not safe for us to use anymore. My kids came to meet me at the foot of the stairs and started to climb up toward me. The railing had come undone, I just noticed. Don’t grab that. It’s not safe. Can’t you see you’ll fall?
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