I don’t dream often. And when I tell you that, I’m specifically referring “sleep” dreams. On the other hand, I daydream constantly, and it generally comes with a good amount self-talk, which is often (correction: always) audible. So, I try to limit my daydreaming to times and places when and where I’m alone. But dreaming, in the pure sense, has escaped me most of my life. Not that I don’t dream. Pseudo-experts in the field (i.e., friends and family I know who have vivid dream

I didn’t know what else to do … so I screamed. Then I took a big cleansing breath, maybe two … and I screamed again. Do you ever do that, something that is truly harmless and benign, yet if anyone else were around, they’d wonder––or maybe worry––about you? Well, this was one of those times. I was alone, in the privacy of my home, and I just needed to let off the valve, to ease the pressure of everything that was happening. It was a perfect opportunity that had been placed rig

Going back a few years. Can you identify? I don’t talk to squirrels. (That’s not entirely true.) Sometimes, I do. I’ll talk to a squirrel when it’s at rest (which is rare) and looking in my direction. Usually, it’s something like, “Hey little buddy!” Not deep conversation, I know, but what else is there to say to a squirrel? The other time I’ll talk to a squirrel is when it’s in the road, contemplating its next move (a stressful event for both me and the squirrel). As a motor