I woke up this morning with the weird sense that I had had a really good dream, and that something good was in the works. Not a bad feeling to wake up to. But I couldn't remember to save my life what the dream was about.
Until now. I remember now.
And now it's just making me wish that it could be real, and it's not, and I don't know if it'll ever be.
Don't you hate it when you prefer your dreams to reality? I would give anything to make that happen, but I can't and it won't and it's torturing me. I keep thinking of it as if it were something that actually happened.
It really was a great dream.
Oh well. Reality's pretty great too, on the sunny beautiful island of Nantucket. I'm about to go out for breakfast in a moment. Life is good. Not quite as good as my dream, but really good.
Clara
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