Usually I do not remember my dreams well enough to write about them but I took a nap this afternoon and actually dreamed I was writing my blog, so it seems it would be wrong not to actually write that blog, it would be like refusing a gift, and one should never refuse a gift.
In the dream I was writing about what a pain in the ass the internet (specifically Facebook) is with all of the pop up notifications, always right on top of whatever you’re typing at the moment so you can either carry on blind and go back later to see if there are typos or stop, scroll up or down, or close it, but it’s all an irritation and, as happens in dreams, someone responded immediately and suddenly I was watching a video which compared it to driving, or learning to drive. The idea was not to get stressed and panicked by the person behind you, it’s O.K. to take your time, it’s O.K to stop, think about whatever it is, and logically solve the problem.
Then I was in a village, it looked sort of medieval and Game of Thrones like. I was the king but our survival strategy, the secret of our success, was the mountains we lived in. Generally the power grabbing families left us alone because mountains are inherently difficult for armies, but also because we posed no threat. We had no army of our own. Well, news came that an invading force was on the way and we all just evacuated the town and went, with our pigs and chickens, off into the hills to hide until they were gone. But we left a welcome sign on the main road, a banner stretched across it which we knew they would toss down but there were bouncing Betty land mines under each pole. Not a strategy designed to win, just to mess with them a little bit.
That’s about it. Nothing earth-shattering, but today’s blog came to you directly from my sub-consciousness, and that is something right there.