Spanish. Dream. Ditty

Fiorella lost a dia.  She didn't sleep well en el noche de martes, but more than made up for it on miercoles, which means most of her to-do list remains not-done. She didn't learn any mas palabras en espanol, work on her libro, check on a missing amiga, write some important letters, or any other pressing items. So on jueves she'd better dig in. Wish her bien.
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UPDATE: Fio had a wonderful dream last noche, that her hija had married prince and had a bebe and the royal familia had come to visit.  The other abuela handed Fio the bebe and a bueno time was had by todo, especially Fio.
***
Fio must be
Very sweet
Because
Mosquitoes find her
Quite a treat

Guilt Rides My Back

Fiorella had a horrible guilt dream last night, that she'd mislaid the disabled daughter of a friend whom she'd volunteered to care for.  Suddenly realizing what she had done, Fio wanted to return the child--if she was still alive--to her mother without being caught because your ignoble reporter didn't want to go to jail for the crime, which was a memory lapse, and interrupt her graduate studies.

Now, (1) Fio's graduate studies are a l-o-n-g way in the past,  and (2) she's never been responsible for a disabled child.  Why the dream?  Sheer guilt?  What/whom did the disabled child represent?  One of Fio's half-finished novels--is Lolly calling her back?  One of the many projects that Fio's started around the house?  That baby she miscarried years ago?

Fio ponders.

Winner

When Fiorella was a child, she loved watching the hurdles event in the Olympics, and when she went to bed, she had dreams about leaping hedges as she raced from lawn to lawn down the street.  Ah, the joy of running, the leap, the rhythm, the achievement!

Unfortunately, Fio is short, stocky, and not athletically inclined, but she's still leapt her share of hurdles. Babe, that's what life's all about.

Fio's Dream

Fiorella had an unnerving dream just before she woke up this morning.  She was in Austin, driving south on North Lamar, one of her favored routes, but the road morphed into a hilly highway in a rural setting, and Fiorella realized she was driving much too fast--over the speed limit and gaining.  She let up on the accelerator, but there were cars in front of her and she assumed she would crash into them.  For some strange reason, she didn't use her brake, but there was no crash, although she did pass through a red light.

Fio forgets where she was going, maybe to UT for a gathering of some sort--a conference?  All she remembers is the crowd.  She couldn't find her car afterwards (a frequent occurrence in her dreams about UT) so she accepted the offer of a nice woman she'd never seen before to give her a ride home.  The traffic was horrific in the area, and the woman couldn't get out of it.  She parked the car and said she was going for help, but after a while, Fiorella realized she wasn't going to return.  A little man approached her, but she was suspicious of him.

Fio has no idea how she got home, but when she did, she discovered $250 was missing from her purse--the woman, the little man, the crowd?  Who knows.

The interesting thing is that Fiorella never panicked, although her heart did beat faster when she was speeding downhill toward the other cars.

Six-thirty a.m.

As Fiorella is sitting on the couch and keying in this blog, she is also mentally massaging every muscle in her body because she woke up feeling like she'd been beaten up during the night. And, in a way, she was--in her dreams. For some reason, her subconscious decided to review her teaching career, pull out every dumb thing she'd ever done, remind her of it, then depict her as totally unorganized to boot.

Now, Fio was sometimes dumb, but she was never unorganized so she's gotta figure out what this dream really means.

In the meantime, she's taking half a hydrocodone. Mental massage isn't cutting it.