As Times Go By

Anyone who has talked with me in the last year or so has probably sat and listened to one of my detailed (and sometimes lengthy) dreams.  Many mornings I wake knowing every detail immediately and am able to scribble them down.  Occasionally it takes a day or two for the dream to come together but is eventually clearly remembered by a remark someone makes or a conversation that's had. Well, this week has been like most in that I wake up with Ingrid batting me in the face and my first waking thought is "What are they putting in that Colorado water?" Tuesday morning I woke up differently than most times.  I was just sad. Like Holly Golightly's "Mean Reds" - where you're sad but what's worse is you don't know what you're sad about.  I had a case of the Mean Reds and I had not idea why.  It took some time throughout the day to figure it out but then in my personnel meting at work my entire dream came flooding back. And here it is: A dear frie