I woke up this morning feeling wrong. I had strange dreams all night, but I couldn’t really remember them.

My husband called me today, to see how I was feeling.
He mentioned that he had some strange dreams last night, too.


While I was working on my coin bra, and “watching” old episodes ‘Angel’, I had sort of mini-waking dreams. Flashes of things that i know I’ve seen before, but weren’t real.

I was in a car.
Not my car (I drive a little sedan), but a station wagon. I don’t recall who I was with, but they felt familiar.
The biggest, and by that I mean most overwhelming, memory of it all was the cats.
Three of them.
One was my Peanut. The other two were teeny, tiny kittens.
They were absolutely adorable.
And needed my protection.

It was a warm day, and whoever I was with kept insisting on leaving them in the car.
But I couldn’t do it.
They were so small and cute and fluffy.
And it was my Peanut.
I couldn’t leave her in there. In the heat.

I just couldn’t leave her.