Last night I dreamt of my mother. I remembered the dream as I was driving to work. "Hey Jude" started playing on the radio, and suddenly the dream returned - not the memory of images, but instead, memory of an intense negative feeling. And then the images came to me. Nothing I feel especially interested in sharing for now, except to say that I dreamt of my mother, and it felt as if she was real and present.
The radio said that today (or, technically, yesterday) was St. Jude's Day. St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes.
I cannot sleep lately. So here I am at 1:11 am. Make a wish.
I am leaning more and more toward training for the half marathon. Is that crazy? Possibly. No promises yet.