He was only a little dead

I heard someone say that writing about a thing, even if you write it on a piece of paper and throw away the paper, can help take some of the weight, or maybe pressure is a better word, of your mind/psyche/what have you.

This lil' blog is a lot like throwing words away, so away we go. Stuff in quotes is generally going to be stuff I felt but that was never explained in the dream.

My dad died, on December 2nd. Or maybe the 1st. It's hard to tell.

My brother, Dan, and I went up on the 4th and 5th to Cali and made arrangements for his final rest.

This morning, I dreamed he was alive, and a little disgusted with "all of us" for believing he was dead. He said he had to hibernate for a week, then he had doctor appointments, and then he was going to hibernate for another month.

I fixed his computer, and I set up an email account for him. Dan and I slept at his place, though it wasn't the place we cleared his stuff out of. Also California is effed up. $1400+ for a one bedroom apartment with a sort of single room kitchen/dining/front room. Sheesh. Supply and demand get out of control sometimes.

As they do, this dream petered off at some point. I think Perfect Tommy started talking to me about at this point.