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January 02, 2006
The Not-So-Wonderful Thing about Tigers
There's little worse than listening to a long-winded description of someone else's dream - but I just want to go on the record here and say that I had the scariest anxiety nightmare of me short life last night. And as this is a blog of my whole moving/business-building process, of which this TOTALLY relates in the most obvious Dr. Phil-way imaginable, I absolutely must detail the horror...the horror...
Oh lordy.
In it, I was packing to leave and remembered that I had a little, weird stunted tiger in a box, which I had been ignoring and not feeding and just kind of hoping would go away without me having to take any action. After I happened upon the box (in my tool drawer, natch), I realized I had no idea what to do with it. So I opened the box a little, and the wee kitten-sized tiger was still alive and went a bit nuts and took a chunk out of my hand...and then clawed my cat, Mojo..before I dropped it and it disappeared through a hole in the floorboard. I turned to someone, I think Matt or Elliott, who was sitting on the couch and I said, "Well - problem solved."
But then the thing came back up through the hole.
And I woke up in a state of frenzy.
Whoa. Rarely do I remember my dreams, and rarely are they so darned...obvious.
Tiger in the box is freaky-dekes. Alas, the time has come to deal with it.
Word to your mother.
(And mine too.)
Posted by Bree at January 2, 2006 10:56 AM