I woke up a good two hours earlier than I’d intended, from a nightmare that was long and involved.  I don’t remember most of the beginning, but most of the end of it I spent in prison in a foreign country.  I kept nearly getting out, but no one would believe who I was.  I’d get friends on the phone and they’d think I was joking.  In the end I spent years in this prison before anyone came for me.

After I woke up, I laid in bed for a while imagining Damian Lewis coming in, barefoot, wearing nothing but jeans, all sleep rumpled with his hair all sticky-uppy.  He’d be bringing me coffee and and asking what I wanted for breakfast.  I stared at the door for a while, but he never appeared, presumably because he is an actor on TV and not my boyfriend after all.

Monday ended up being the mother of all Mondays.  After I posted about the sewing machine and the mail, the TV died, I broke a few dishes and set off the smoke alarm.  Maybe not in that order.  Not a good day at all.

Today I need to make a list, drink coffee and get cracking!  I have foods to pre-prepare, shopping to do, tons of cleaning, cookbooks to read, panic attacks to have.  Oh, god, I forgot about pie.  People are going to want pie, huh?  ACK ACK ACK.