A Treasure Found at Home

there was a serious tornado in collin county last night. i’m so glad i don’t live there anymore. anna is up the road a bit, so i wouldn’t have been hit, but it’s the reminder that this stuff happens every spring. last time i was there it was still pretty much a small town with a lot of trailer homes and older buildings. that might have had something to do with the degree of destruction. what i like about this article, though, is how everyone is named… it’s from a local paper. nice to know you can look in the paper the next morning and find out how your friends and family faired in the previous night’s storm.

i also got a link to this fan-tastic! video in my inbox this morning. it’s the evolution of dance in six minutes. performed by someone who, at first glance, seems like he might be an unlikely choice for such a thing. i sure wouldn’t mind sharing a dance floor with this guy, though. it was all i could do to keep from laughing loudly here in my cube. i’m sure the only reason i wasn’t dancing along is because i’m sitting down. oh, just you wait until they raise my desk up to where i can stand up and work (i’ve been thinking of asking them to do this since a says it’s the only way she could work without aggrevating her rsi).

my dreams last night were all about being at ‘work’. in that world, i worked in an old munitions factory or something like that. everything was light brown mud coloured. the factory was closed or closing and huge. there were ghosts and at times i think we may have been dead ourselves. the general feel was not so much morbid, though, as precipice-ish. closing. ending. on the edge of rebirth. i felt a genuine connection to those who were left with me, but we had certainly left a lot behind and were really sort of closing up shop. it’s unclear if we were just moving on and the plant would remain open with another group of people or another purpose or if just we were leaving and it would go on with some of these dead people running it and continue being generally useless… no, not useless… more it seemed like whatever we were making was like beating our head against a wall. i guess that’s close to useless, but there was certianly an aspect of hopeless frustration as well.

as i write this it does sound morbid and listless, and while those feelings were there it wasn’t what i took away from the dream. it was more a feeling that i’d be leaving those things behind and was setting things up so that those left who didn’t feel or notice the morbid listlessness would be taken care of and have ease of living, at least in terms of the factory.

edit:
rob concurs:

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): The leaves on the persimmon tree outside my door are growing so fast I swear I can see them expanding right in front of my eyes. Like them, you are in a period of almost maniacal fertility. The ripening process is so elemental that you may feel as if unpredictable forces of nature have been unleashed inside you. As long as you keep your sense of humor about it, however, nothing too out-of-control will happen. At worst, you’ll resemble a funny monster with a brilliant future, like an awkward kid destined to grow up to be a cute genius.