Dirty Laundry

BeBe woke me up from a fairly sound sleep at about 2:30 this morning. She needed to go outside to do her business, so she barked once. That was enough to get me out of bed, as usual. Only something was different.

As I went out our bedroom door, I saw a pile of laundry on the floor. I couldn’t see it clearly, as it was in the twilight of the middle of the night, but it seemed superimposed on the normal space. I stepped through the space, and it disappeared, only to be replaced by another pile in the hallway. That, too, disappeared as I continued walking walking down the hall. By the time I got to BeBe at the door to the back deck, I knew I’d experienced what can only be described as a walking dream. It made me wonder if I was still asleep but acting like an automaton. I still feel a little ‘otherworldly’ this morning.

And then, when researching for this illustration, just now, I realized that I’d symbolically aired my dirty laundry in private, and now I was doing the same, in public, with this blog. The joke’s on me, I guess.