One of those weeks. I'd wanted to blog last night, but I had to go in to see someone who didn't want to see me, and . . . well, doctor-patient confidentiality must be respected. I don't think it's unrelated that I dreamed last night of throwing it all in. "Let's sell everything and move down to Mexico," I told Karen in the dream, and amazingly, she went for it. Next thing I knew, we were packing up for the move. We must have gotten rid of a lot of our junk, since we managed to fit everything into one of the smaller U-haul trucks. I felt exhausted that we were moving AGAIN, but I also felt exhilarated. I'm a wandering Jew at heart, and I'd been in one place far too long. We were moving on. Then a wasp flew into my ear and I had that awful plugged sensation layered with batshit-crazy hindbrain terror whenever it buzzed its wings, and the dream became a nightmare, just like any other nightmare. And then I woke up. Well, at least the sea is still as pretty as ever. D.