"If you're ever feeling blue then write another song about your dream of horses."*

    I spent all this afternoon and evening working on a blog post that just isn’t panning out. So…I’m going to talk about my dream, despite the fact that I hate it when people talk about their dreams. I’m a sorry, sick hypocrite. I apologize in advance.

    But anyway, I dreamt that I bought a horse and then quickly realized that I couldn’t afford to own a horse and had nowhere to put it. The douche canoe who sold it to me wouldn’t take it back, so I was fucked.

    I walked the horse all over my neighborhood, which, in my dream, was my parents’ neighborhood in Omaha—the one I grew up in. I went from house to house trying to find one with a fenced-in yard for my horse. And then I would put the horse in various yards and try to run away, but would always be caught before I could escape.

    So then I took the horse and put it in the backseat of my Honda Civic. I made it crouch down behind the front seats and I covered it with a blanket, so no one would see it.

    I don’t remember after that—I guess we probably drove out of town and died by the side of the highway. Or maybe I died and the horse ran free and ate a boatload of hay or oats or grass since I certainly hadn't been feeding it.

    There are many obvious symbolic moments in this dream, but all of them seem to involve me making bad choices and then shirking responsibility, so I choose not to delve any deeper for the present. You're welcome.

    Instead, I drew a picture for you:

Me driving with a horse wrapped in a blanket. Lacey, 2012.

    I’m driving to San Francisco and other points north tomorrow and will pass many farms along the way. Hopefully I will not make any unwise and irrevocably irresponsible purchases. 

*From "Judy and the Dream of Horses" (Belle and Sebastian).