Last night at a friend's house... I didn't seem to be
able to
find a chair or
stay in one place, so I heard
and participated in
fragments of conversations. Someone
(I didn't hear who) wants to open a
coffee shop, but her
bf wants her to "do something more
practical, like
be a artist."
(italics mine) Everyone agreed that neither idea was very practical.
Anyway, was woken once again by the baby goat down
the hill bleating in its human-sounding way. It is
an awful sound, like a teenager trying to imitate a
goat unsuccessfully but insistently.
For some reason the first image in my mind as I sat up
in bed was my old friend George, who was an art dealer
(to put it simply). While in the shower, I tried to
think of what could have put him in my head. He died
several years back, and I miss him when I think of him,
but when was the last time I thought of him?
Finally I figured he came to mind because he was the
last person I really liked and just had a simple, fun
relationship with. Also, I am dead tired, and
*there* was the other connection.