Undertook one of my occasional kitchen endeavors last night.
And I just woke up, six hours later at 3:00am after one of my weirdest and least eventful in the bizarre dreams series. And I may have arrived at an, "aha" moment. Cause and effect and all that. Maybe the improvisational cooking is the thing that triggers the late-night weirdness?
And the dream itself was like an episode of Seinfeld (except with poor writers), where everything happening revolved around nothing originating at the house I grew up in and spreading to the apartment I moved to when I moved out .... for love ..... though there was no love involved in this dream. Actually, the lack of emotion could have been a theme.
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