a dream

A few nights ago: I am waiting to board a boat. A ferry, maybe - a dingy enormous public transportation-type boat that sits docked on the edge of a gorgeous, peaceful, dark blue expanse of water that extends as far as I can see. There are small cottages along the shoreline. It is twilight.

Whatever the nautical equivalent is of a porter approaches to help carry our bags. I am desperately trying to zip two rounds of delicate bread dough into my duffel bag without damaging them and failing miserably. He stands over me and comments, in French, on how awful it is that there are so many irritating children boarding this boat. I don't speak French, but I understand. And manage to respond, flustered and defensive, "but, but ... j'ai ... trois!"

But I have three, sir!

My dreams have always been comically straightforward in their symbolism. Sometimes they are just comically straightforward (I'm worried about a work problem - and I dream about the work problem). So this doesn't take much interpretation. I'm going on a journey, heading into a place that is quite beautiful, where people speak another language (therapy, college, the program) and I can't bring my bread dough. Nor my children! I doubt many clients would appreciate their boisterous presence in my new office. Who could get a word in edgewise?

Anticipating leaving the baby hurts. I've been working lately for Seeds 4 Success and it's been good practice. Yesterday I dropped the kids at camp, then left the baby with her sitter, got into the car, and cried nearly all the way to my home visit.

We'll be fine. I'll get on the boat.

I'm just a little scared.