I choose to wake every morning by the mellow tunes of NPR's Morning Addition. I, like my wife, get almost 85% of my discussable news from the two to three hours of repetitive snippets that flows into my brain as I mindlessly stir myself awake to face the day. The side affect is my last few dreaming moments are mutated with actual events that leave me wandering if I was involved in the train wreck in India or was this just something that I heard. Needless to say, it can provide for some pretty intense, colorful, and scary dreams.
The same was true today as they discussed a group working for B.P. skimming for oil in the marshes of Louisiana. They, unfortunately, were doing in incorrectly which only results in more damage, maybe irrevocable, to the marshlands. By the time I was brushing my teeth the story had long passed, but the memory of my dreams had not. I was there at the marsh, with the tools, the heat, working with the smell of salt and oil chemicals burning my noise.
Makes for a pretty confusing time as I try to decipher if this is a real memory, a manifested dream, or something I had just heard in passing. My face stays contorted, trying to decide, until the top of the hour saves me when the story replays itself. A deep sigh of relief followed by a wondering of what horrid news will warp my dreams tomorrow...
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