I Had A Dream

I had a weird dream last night. That’s nothing new. I’ve been having a lot of weird dreams lately, ones that I vividly remember, and which make no sense. When I tell my husband about them, he tells me I’m nuts. I kind of agree with him.

But this dream was different. We’ve all had the anxiety dreams, the ones where we show up someplace unprepared. For me, it’s usually my college campus on finals day, only I don’t know where the class is located, I haven’t attended all semester, and I clearly haven’t studied. This time, I returned to one of those dreams, only I fixed the problem.

 

In previous dreams, I’d been assigned a project to complete. Usually, I showed up on the day it was due. This time, I had a week left, and while I still didn’t know nearly enough about the project, I’d told the teacher/professor (actually, the Princess’ high school swim coach) that I’d just complete the project by myself. She praised me for my work ethic and my manners. And then I met a bunch of people from various stages of my life who were also working on the project and offered to help me.

 

I have no idea what this dream means, but I’m hoping it means I’ve gotten ahold of my anxiety. And obviously, it means that manners are important!

Ants

I know I’m one of the few people who like Mondays, but even I have to say this one didn’t start as well as I hoped. Banana Girl texted me to tell me she needed to talk to me about a bunch of things later. Now, I’ve been at this Mom-game for a while, so I know that if it can wait until later, there’s no emergency. No problem.  

However, she then went on to tell me about an ant infestation IN HER SHOES.

 

First of all, I don’t like ants. Actually, I don’t like any bug or bug-like thing. Or rodents. So, this is not how I want to start off my Monday. I’m also very confused because I’ve never heard of ants in shoes. I suspect there are ants AROUND where she keeps her shoes. Considering how well (or NOT) her roommates clean their house, I’m surprised this is the first I’m hearing of anything. She’s also not the best at describing things, and texting isn’t the most accurate way of communicating. The last time she had an issue, she told me there was a bunny caught in the pit outside her window (her room is in the basement). The “bunny” was a vole. Anyway.

 

Although she easily has access to Google, she of course didn’t know what to do, which is why she was asking me. I told her to buy ant traps and to wash the area with vinegar. And to vacuum, a lot. She’ll be fine. I’m just glad I don’t have to live there.

 

Speaking of ants, the heroine of my upcoming book hates ants, too. I thoughts I’d share an excerpt. Enjoy!

 

From the surf, Fiona stared in awe as Caleb removed his shirt. For the first time, she glimpsed the black tattoos covering his shoulders, arms, chest, and upper back. He strode toward the water, powerful muscles bunching, bald head gleaming in the early evening light. He looked like a cross between a Roman god and a biker dude—awesome, powerful, and foreboding. She didn’t know whether to be intrigued or put off—she’d never been attracted to the tatted look, but Caleb pulled it off. 

She started as the water lapped her feet, pulling the sand away from her. Why did she care whether he had tattoos? He wasn’t her type. He was arrogant and high- handed, and he wanted to buy her company. Still, she couldn’t keep her gaze off him as she ignored her stomach flutters. And he had gotten rid of her ants. He swam to what had to be the middle of the ocean. Okay, maybe not the middle of the ocean, but far enough from the shore no one could get to him unless they were a strong swimmer. She suspected he’d escaped on purpose. 

She frowned as she splashed in the water and hopped the waves. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Fiona looked at Lexie, who’d splashed over to her, and nodded. “Sorry, just thinking.” About work, about your brother... 

 

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope your 2023 is healthy and filled with love. Currently, mine is filled with people. The Wilck Household has been a revolving hotel for children, pets, friends, and boyfriends. I’ve loved the full household and the bustle and the love, but I might be looking forward to checkout time tomorrow. Just a little. I think this year I will embrace my “old” status—add in a little extra cranky, and I’ll have the house to myself. Perfect!

Actually, for 2023, I’m trying something new, at least when it comes to my author life. I purchased a year planner for social media. It includes an audit of how my different platforms are doing, as well as daily tasks with a plethora of posting ideas. Hopefully, if I follow everything, I’ll see an uptick in engagement. So, if you see me post something, respond! Answer the question, post a photo, or just say hi. 

 

In keeping with the plan, today’s task is coming up with a word for the year. I’ve never done this before, but I know lots of people who do. Being me, however, I’m going to do this a little differently. I’m going to come up with two. My word for my professional year is “goals.” I’ve made them, and I’m going to stick to them. I hope the word will provide me with a little more focus, something I’ve lost these past few years. I also hope the word will keep me accountable, if only to myself.

 

In my personal life, my word for the year is going to be “space.” I’m taking up mine and not being afraid of it. I’m limiting my apologies to things I’ve actually done wrong. I’m reveling in my confidence (or at least boosting it a little). I’m too old to hide behind things or to be embarrassed by nothing. Making myself smaller to fit into a box that is of my own making ends now.

 

How about you? What are you doing for 2023? Do you have a word (or two) or a plan or a resolution?