6:30 AM: Expanding on a tweet I posted to Twitter. My alarm woke me from a dream that I was moving out of a very unhappy, angry haunted house. It's a house I've had many nightmares about in the past. Dreams about this house can go on for hours, and this was no exception. I woke briefly at 3 something AM, and again around 5, and each time I was working on cleaning up a mess in this miserable house, in preparation for moving away.
In the last portion of the dream - just before my alarm woke me for the day - were done packing, our things had been moved, and now we were cleaning up behind ourselves. We tore down tattered curtains, letting in fresh air and sunlight. The light showed that the house was crumbling and cobwebs covered nearly every surface. The previous owner had made haphazard renovations that I was just noticing. I clearly remember noting out loud, as a piece of disintegrating particle board broke off in my hand, "I don't think this is up to code."
The resident poltergeist grew angry, the walls shook as it howled. And as the dream took a familiar turn toward becoming a full-blown nightmare, I suddenly found the inner resolve to resist and hollered, "Stop." First, in nightmare fashion, I couldn't find my voice. But then something shifted, and I was able to say, repeatedly and with confidence, "Stop it. Stop. Stop."
And it stopped. It wasn't gone. It was still angry. But the walls stilled, the angry wailing quieted, and we were able to go back to the cores our move out of the house required. In the dream I knew that before we finished moving the spirit would probably roar again, but that I could stand up to it, and make it back down.
I've decided I'm going to keep a running log of the day.
7:15 AM: My mister calls me from our polling place to let me know that as the polls opened, there were about 150 people already in line ahead of him. I go outside in my short sleeves and bare feet to give the squirrels some nuts. Even the chipmunks have come out of their hidey-holes in search of goodies.
We tied the record for the date yesterday by topping out at 74°F. Weather predictions for today are for another beautiful day. Highs of 70°F and fair. 20 to 30 degrees warmer than the last three presidential election days here.
7:45 AM: The morning fog in my brain is starting to clear. The morning news is on TV. Every commercial is a political ad. CBS is showing Barack Obama in his polling booth, casting his vote, with his daughter at his side.
I'm going to rustle up some breakfast and then log in to get some work done. I'll try to beat part of the crowd at the polls by going in at an odd hour, between morning rush hour and lunch. But I will be taking a book to read while I'm waiting. I assume there will be a line, no matter what time I show up.
8:00 AM: My mister just called. He got through the line fairly quickly. The optical scanning machine listed his vote as #138, so his estimate wasn't far off. He says the line is down to nearly nothing now. I'm going to throw on some shoes and zip out there now.
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