Wow, Tom said there were motorcycles tearing by that I managed to sleep through today.
I got a message on another site I keep journals on from a teenage girl in Alabama named Catelyn who hopes to make a career out of YouTube someday. She wanted permission to use my journal on a series she’s doing, saying she wouldn’t receive payment or anything like that for it. She said she liked the way my journal was detailed, went far back into the past as well as the present, and was consistent. She pointed out that many other journals weren’t updated regularly and only contained a few sentences.
I guess she wants to do a series on different people’s lives, so I said sure, she could use my journal, and she thanked me for the “amazing opportunity,” LOL, and said she’ll pass along the link to it once it’s up. So that was a pretty interesting request.
Aly bought and read Locked-In, liked it for its inner dialogue/thoughts and is going to leave a review on it. She did say she caught a couple of grammatical errors and asked if I wanted to be told about them. Definitely, even though editing is a pain in the ass and not the simple task it should be as it is with editing blogs.
Saw something strange here in the middle of the night last night, though I don’t think they were up to no good. The gates are closed at that time and you have to know the code to get in. At 4 AM I happened to be up and noticed the sound of an engine idling close by. I looked out the living room window and saw a man and a woman sitting in a car in front of our place. The interior of the car was lit and the man seemed to be going through some papers that were either stapled together or attached to a clipboard. The car then backed up in front of Bob and Virginia. I know they saw me at that point, which was what I wanted them to do just in case they did have any ill intentions in mind. But then they pulled back in front of our place and appeared to be in a heated debate, though not necessarily arguing. I think they were truly trying to find someplace and were frustrated and confused despite the odd hour. They left a minute later.
Who were they? Why were they here? Where did they go?
The only thing I remember from last night’s dream was being in a pool somewhere with Tom and half a dozen other adults. A small patch of sunlight was shining on a section of the pool. I tried to follow it but it kept moving. At first, I was treading water with my hair up in a bun, not wanting it to get wet. But then I floated onto my back, not caring that it was now wet. I swam up to Tom a minute later and said some nonsensical thing about seeing Melanie (from AZ) later on for counseling and that my hair would be all curly then.
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