I Had the Weirdest Dream

Last night I dreamt that the world had pretty much blown itself up and the few stragglers remaining (maybe two hundred in the city I was in) were trying to make a go of life post-war. I found an abandoned Barnes & Noble and decided to set up shop. Soon I became known as "Heather the bookkeeper". I dressed like a gypsy (which I've done time and time again), walked around barefoot, and read every book in my shop. For some strange reason, my store had internet access and I kept helping people who'd come in looking for information on survival skills.

Anyway, this man showed up. He called me his gypsy girl. He wore an orange shirt and smelled like cloves. We'd apparently been close for many years and I was relieved to see he survived the war. He asked how the book was coming. I told him, "Eighth Grade Bites goes on submission tomorrow."

He looked stunned, then he looked sad. He hugged me and told me that all of it was gone--the publishing houses, the agents, New York...it was all blown away in the storm (which was silly, because if anything, it was taken away by the war...wasn't it?). He told me the books I had in my store were all that were left, that there would be no new books published.

So I boarded up the windows and wouldn't let anybody inside.

How's that for an anxiety dream? Yikes. I had no idea I was nervous about going on submission. Funny how the old subconscious likes to step in and nudge us. Truth be told, I still don't feel nervous, but for some reason, that dream creeped me out. Maybe I'm filled with anxiety over not being filled with anxiety. (I'm a natural worry wart--if I'm not fretting about this or that, I'll start fretting about being calm, cool & collected)

Anyhoo, yesterday I managed another 1,000+ words on Ninth Grade Sucks. Yay! Plus, I submitted a short story of mine to Strange Horizons. Not one of my busiest days, but it'll do.

Today I'm going to write more and try hard to forget about my dream...even though I can still smell cloves.