I'm loosing weight. 11 days sober and I already feel the weight dropping off. I need to gain it back. I had this cool relationship with my beer belly and if he leaves me, I'll be seriously bummed. Mom has this huge bowl of leftover Halloween candy that I'm using to try to gain back the fat. Taking two or three little bars a day. Ok. Maybe six. But who's counting, right? I just hope that it becomes fat and not inappropriate zits that end up always in the most odd areas. Now, that would suck. I spent the morning writing that French bit that I posted earlier and surfing the intrweb looking at new blogs. Seeing what other people are writing about. Checking out the design. Format. That sort of thing. I guess you can say it was a little bit of cyber-networking.
I had a couple of dreams that made me think last night. One of them I was talking to a friend who I haven't spoken to in a while. We were talking about a fight we had. Or a fight I thought we were in. She told me that she was going through a hard time lately and she really needs my support. She told me that she was upset that we weren't talking because she needed me in her life. I told her that I'd never go anywhere and that I'll always be here for her. Even if we were in a fight. I then told her to go to sleep. She put her head on my shoulder. We laid down. We fell asleep. It was a sweet dream. Just made me think a bit. I hope she's OK. The other one had my father and I going on a vacation. We were driving to the airport. But we weren't going to take a plane. We were taking a time machine. We were able to transport anywhere. Anytime. I was going down the elevators to get to the garage and some kids stopped me. They were calling me names. I paused and told them off. That's when I woke up. Never got to see the time machine. Boo.
It's amazing that music cures all. Music is power. And here's proof. I guarantee you that this will be making its rounds and will cheer up anyone in a bad mood. Makes me miss Bob, too.
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