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Doctor Who dreams are cool
A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was the companion on the 8th Doctor (Paul McGann). Our adventure was taking place on a pirate ship sailing on a sea of sand; the captain was a woman named Vernal. The Doctor had a habit of standing on the rigging without a shirt on, the wind blowing his hair.
Last night I dreamt that I was no longer traveling with the Doctor, although I used to. Now I worked at Torchwood with Captain Jack as his second in command.
That was also cool. Especially because I had the same coat he did.
On the flip side of the emotional coin, my mother moved into a nursing home today. I ordered flowers for her, since I couldn't be there, but they can't be delivered until tomorrow afternoon. She's handling it bravely, and makes it sound as though she is enjoying herself and looking forward to the change, but she's terribly worried about leaving her dogs behind.
I know I should call my father and see how _he_ is doing, but for some reason, that's a daunting prospect.
On the third flip side of the emotional coin (I prefer multi-dimensional monetary units), the kitty is leaving us a LARGE present every day in the litter box, and hasn't vomited in days. Currently, he is once again stealing my foil blister pack of throat lozenges off my desk and running away with them... brb
I was woke up at 3 am last night by the sounds of vomiting. But this time, it was Ike the dog. :|
It was just water and mucus, and a one time thing (I hope).
Last night I dreamt that I was no longer traveling with the Doctor, although I used to. Now I worked at Torchwood with Captain Jack as his second in command.
That was also cool. Especially because I had the same coat he did.
On the flip side of the emotional coin, my mother moved into a nursing home today. I ordered flowers for her, since I couldn't be there, but they can't be delivered until tomorrow afternoon. She's handling it bravely, and makes it sound as though she is enjoying herself and looking forward to the change, but she's terribly worried about leaving her dogs behind.
I know I should call my father and see how _he_ is doing, but for some reason, that's a daunting prospect.
On the third flip side of the emotional coin (I prefer multi-dimensional monetary units), the kitty is leaving us a LARGE present every day in the litter box, and hasn't vomited in days. Currently, he is once again stealing my foil blister pack of throat lozenges off my desk and running away with them... brb
I was woke up at 3 am last night by the sounds of vomiting. But this time, it was Ike the dog. :|
It was just water and mucus, and a one time thing (I hope).