Dreams and Portents

I don’t normally blog twice in one day any more, but I had this absolutely wretched dream last night and it’s been weighing on me all day. I have no idea what it means or if it means anything at all. I’m lousy at interpretation, really. But I’ll write it down here and maybe I’ll stop thinking about it.

I’m in the house upstairs. It’s night – the kids are in bed, mr myn is home. Maybe we’re sleeping. I just know it’s dark. And then this terrible noise comes screeching out of the sky and I know it’s an airplane. Not like a jetliner, but one of those little private type planes. But I know something’s wrong and it’s going to crash. A second or two later, it does and we go running to the windows. There’s wreckage everywhere and fire burning all through my yard and in the trees. I take one glance and start bawling hysterically.

And then I woke up shaking so bad I actually thought it *had* happened. Took me hours to get back to sleep. *shudders*

I’m sure there’s enough crap going on in my life that I could twist into fitting into the metaphor of a crashing plane, but I’d rather not.

So yeah. Think I’m gonna go crawl back in to my edits for a while and then lose myself in A Dance with Dragons. No airplanes there.

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