Fine and how are you?

Okay, my metaphorphosis is pretty close to being done. I just need to sand off this little bit...here...and then...a little over on this edge. Honey, where'd you put the varnish? Well do we still have any of that old shelac? Okay, I'll make do with glue and spit. Okay, I'll wait for the varnish. And as soon as I get the varnish on this thing and it dries, I should be right back. The universe did a funny thing. (or "God", if you like). It seems that on Dec. 29th, it not only made me depressed but it took away (temporarily) the memory of being well and the gift that it had always given me to remember that everything was going to be fine. Okay, maybe the universe didn't remove the gift entirely as much as make me ready to love it again. That gift? Anybody out there ever read my blog and say, "Boy Chris is a flake."? What did I blog right before you said that? That's right. I blogged about some dream that was a prediction of what was going to happen to me that day. I had forgotten about that entirely until tonight. And it then occured to me that dreaming about the future is the same as your soul travelling there. And if my soul can travel to the future, then it can just as easily travel to the past. I don't think my soul wants to roam too far from home, though, so don't ask it for any time travel favors. I don't have any control over it. It's like a nocturnal emission. Call it a "Nocturnal Me-mission." Although I haven't had a dream like that since I've been sick. Maybe I'll have one tonight.

By the way, my crazy thoughts came up in group therapy today. I was completely expecting the facilitator of the group to try to shake me and say, "what the hell are you talking about?" but instead she said, "but your molecules are vibrating right here." and then she went into a pep talk on quantum physics making the whole thing nothing to worry about. What strange but effective therapy. She combined quantum physics, buddhism and general A.A. brand spirituality into the "Chris Churchill Specific" therapy method.

Weird.

Good night.

Blarney Stone. Wednesdays at 8pm.