There’s been dust coming up from the Sahara where I live. It arrived on the Ides of March, which was a day that just did not work at all for me. I didn’t have a bad day, but just nothing really went as I hoped it would. And then the sky was yellow that day, and with Mr. Nut-Case threatening us all with nuclear weapons, it made it all a bit nerve wracking. I kept hoping that history might repeat itself, but unfortunately no one took it upon themselves to do unto Cesar as was done unto him.
I’ve been having a lot of those not-quite-right days recently. I don’t know whether I’m just not in sync, or not really paying attention enough to do things correctly. It could be the war in Ukraine. I’ve been having stress dreams. I don’t remember them really, but I used to have dreams as a kid during the cold war, when Ronald Reagan was building new nuclear weapons to match and rival the USSR’s. I don’t remember the dreams at all, but the ones I’m having now feel familiar. I haven’t bothered with “preparing” at all if everything goes pear shaped. I might regret that, but I’m just hoping I’m one of the first ones to go. Who wants to survive a nuclear bomb?
So with the dust, the war, the sense of fear that comes at me in the night when I think I’ve managed to push it all away, I feel out of sorts. I’ve taken up sleeping with Foro at night. It’s a strange world when adults go back to sleeping with their favorite stuffed animals, hoping to keep the bogey man, or the nuclear fall-out, at bay.