The Champion of Oligochaeta

I am the Champion of Oligochaeta. Upon arriving outside this morning, I had originally planned to drive in to work, since forest fires have made the air quality so bad, but I suddenly changed my mind and walked instead. There was a humungous earthworm blindly flailing on the sidewalk, so of course I rescued him and carried him to the nice cool humus under some ivy.

I knew I had to walk for some reason. Just imagine baking in the 90 F heat all afternoon, with no eyes to direct you to the grass, always striving but never finding?

Unfortunately, I can't remember any dreams I had last night, but Natty had one that makes up for it; I will share it with you (as it was told to me):

"I had a crazy dream last night. You handed me a quart-sized Ziploc back with pot in it, and papers with our itinerary. You instructed me to put it under the grand staircase at the hotel. So then you left, and I walked with Lovely to the hotel, and we put the bag of pot (and our itinerary papers) under the grand staircase. Of course we were caught. They threw Lovely and I out of the hotel and told us that the cops were going to come looking for us, so we made a run for it and to the warehouse district in London. We came upon a very old warehouse with a pond in it, and trees and gunk and scrap metal all around the sides - and a pregnant mother was there watching her son swim in it. She said we could hide in the shed on the other side of the pond, so we got in the disgusting water and came upon a dead body... But it was only the woman's other son, practicing dead man's float. He told us not to go to the shed because a man-wolf lived in it, and when we look over there, there is a wolf staring at us. We get out of the water, and the wolf comes over. The younger brother hits him with what looks like a miniature wooden bowling pin, and suddenly the wolf turns into a man and starts crying. We then hear a loud whistle, and a "train" goes by - it looks like a long line of trolleys. Lovely and I hop on and ride off through the warehouse district until I wake up."

I had a quickstep lesson with D for a couple of hours on Wednesday night... My office chair is a great place to be practicing my frame this morning. He also taught me spiral turns in rumba/chachacha, and showed me a new type of hip twist chasse thingy that I can't remember the name of (it's probably called a hip twist chasse). I really should have taken notes, the lesson was that detailed. There was very little dancing until the last half of the lesson; he spent a long while working on my stance, having me bring my arms up and come toward him when he invites, and then making sure I have the proper resistance/pressure and points of connection.

Yesterday evening, I was on the warpath. I probably should have been left alone to stew, like a brooding, hungry Tasmanian devil. There are several interesting thoughts in my head, and I find myself choosing whether or not to waste my energy being irate about them. They merit anger, but I am not often an angry person. Sometimes one is right in being angry, to protect oneself.