I have no idea how people manifest winning the lottery, but I'm still figuring out how to control what's in my dreams.
Last night, hubby and I were talking about how my matron of honour and her husband are going away to this spa in Northern Ontario at some point. Lo and behold, I dreamt that hubby and I had taken a trip to a Norweigan spa. All I remember is having to do work at a computer terminal with other people, searching for shells on the beach, and finding large chocolate Easter eggs in blue foil.
I'm surprised that I didn't dream about being incredibly obese. After last night's post, hubby and I sat down to watch TV, and by chance, World's Fattest Man was season premiering on TLC. This man is 760 pounds! His fat has become so large, that it makes his belly button slope to the side. And he has to wear diapers.
I dunno ... I still wonder: at what point do you kind of look at yourself and say, "Hey, I'm getting really wicked fat. When somebody calls me in a panic, I can't muster up any kind of speed or urgency. I should do something about that."
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