I woke up this morning with a big grin on my face. I'd been so happy in my dream.
Mainly, and please remember that this is a dream, because I'd had MS.
As far as I can recall my dream was that I was diagnosed with and gone through, what my dream told me were, the stages of MS. I was pleased as punch with this. I'd driven around to see all my friends to tell them, and had had an uproariously good laugh at their reactions. Then I went home to be sicker and sicker and wait for death.
So why was I so happy about it? I dunno - but I was.
I suppose I could pop-psych it about ending situations and stuff, but I prefer it just to be a really weird dream about what it was about.
No comments:
Post a Comment