swept away
Thursday, Jan. 13, 2005,

I ended yesterday's entry rather abruptly, but the truth is, the time I have for myself is extremely limited, and I can only devote just "so much" to any endeavor. And if I'm not enjoying myself, it seems pointless to continue.

I wasn't enjoying anything yesterday. Some days are just bad mood days. Even getting my neck cracked only helped a little. Probably the lack of light; the heavy grey overcast of winter on the western shores of Lake Michigan. After so many days in the dark, it's hard to find any cheer in life. (Time to go to the tanning salon for some off-price light sessions?)

And going home to whiney-boy and high-maintenance hound isn't a barrel of laughs, either. As usual, by the time I got home from the Dr., dinner on and eaten and cleaned up, laundry going, and the dog tended to, There wasn't much ME time to be had.

Tending to the dog was kind of nice, though. She was insisting on a walk, and when I took her out, it was balmy and breezy and (for the moment) not raining. So we seized the opportunity and walked for a couple of blocks. We timed it well, because the thunderstorm hit not 10 minutes after we returned home.

And I did take some time to watch Nicky Dunne, as they were doing the Woodward case. A pretty old case, but still interesting, and Nicky's info on that one is impeccable, because of the research he did when he wrote "The Two Mrs. Grenvilles" . I ended up staying up till ten to watch it, but It was 9:50 before the towels were dry and ready to be folded, so I'd have been up anyway.

For some reason I'd driven partly into the water, but it was no big deal because it was shallow and firm-bottomed. I think I had been trying to turn the car around, (I dreamt that a black Corvette actually did turn around in the river) but the weird thing was that there was no anxiety, no sense of urgency--I just sat there admiring the scenery and ignoring the little niggling feeling that kept telling me to get the car out of the river.

Finally, I decided I really should drive out of the river. But before I could, I felt the earth move, heard a deep rumble, and had the lucid thought "It's a flash-flood" before a huge wall of water came surging around the bend and engulfed my car. I could feel the car slide and begin to flip over--and I woke up. Again, it was so extremely weird that at no time, not even when I was trapped in a raging flood, did I feel any alarm. It was a strangely serene feeling to realize I was being swept away by a wall of water, and there wasn't thing I could do but sit there and let it happen.

Now, what the hell did that mean?