I think I said that a couple of posts ago, but it’s still true. I have lots going on and nothing. If that makes any sense to anyone.

I think someone at one time or another said, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” I think I know what they meant.

I have everything to do, yet I can’t do anything. I’ll get everything sorted out. Don’t worry. It just doesn’t make good blogging. Maybe I’ll look around for some fun things to post.

This may be counter productive, but I loved the play in today’s xkcd comic:

I’ve been getting ideas for a new thriller lately.  Actually, lots of ideas for the action in thrillers, but I need to find stories to accompany the action.  I had a peculiarly unusual dream the other morning.  It was so unusual that it’s stuck in my memory.

I was walking through a refuge camp next to a wagon.  Initially, the empty flatbed wagon was being pulled by a horse/mule-type creature.  The wooden plank bed of the flatbed was richly detailed.  Once I got into the part of the refuge camp where I was going to be staying, the person walking next to the wagon (was it me or someone else?) was holding a cylindrical device attached to a cable attached to the wagon, and clicking on the cylindrical device powered the wagon.  I remember wondering about that, shrugging, and thinking perhaps it was a hydraulic system.

This particular refugee camp had a lot of mud and starving, dying people with flies on them (not a not of flies, but some) and large eyes watching me.  After I walked by the starving, dying people lying in the mud, I came to the open shelter where I would be staying.  There were two other people there who I knew.  We greeted one another.  They had a hoist-type device chained to the shelter and raised.

At this point, I woke up.  The dream was vivid and colorful (as colorful as rich shades of brown can be) and like absolutely nothing I’ve ever dreamed before.