Last night, I had a dream that I was sitting with my mom on the side of a mountain, watching people ski and sled down the mountain on the other side of the valley. We were discussing how the snow was still on the ground up on the mountain, but how back home it had all melted. Suddenly we looked over at the other mountain to see that in an instant all the snow had melted and a wave of water was washing down the mountain, through the valley and toward us. (I believe my brain was borrowing some special effects from Deep Impact at this point.) I raced to find Katie who was off playing by herself, grabbed her, and clung to a tree as the wave of water washed over my head. After the water stopped, I found a frightened, but unharmed, ten-year-younger version of my brother who had not been able to get to my dad during the melted snow mayhem, but had now found him and was shaking his head in disbelief. We were all a bit shocked, but relieved that no one was hurt or washed away. I then thought to myself, "This is the coolest thing I will ever blog about!"
I woke up moments later.
Do you realize how weird I am, people? In a dream where my life and the lives of many loved ones are in danger, a second after I realize we are all okay, my most joyful thought is that I will have something cool to blog about.
Am I that desperate for excitement? Are the dishes and laundry leaving me that wanting for a thrill? Do I need a life or death experience to keep you coming back to read about my days, or will my simple life be enough?
I hope so. Because it might not be thrilling, but my life leaves me tired enough at the end of the day without running away from rushing walls of water.