"Oh, there's the ghost of Gingi again." "Look. Ginger's ghost is there now."
And then, for whatever reason, our ottoman was near the computer. And Ging jumped on it. And I reached out, out of habit, to pet her.
And I still miss her.
I'd better get ready a LOT faster than I've been doing lately. Because, in my dream, I didn't look much older than I presently am.
(It might make Michael a little worried.)
(And no offense if you are a lady who's attracted to other ladies. I just don't swing that way. You're still a lovely person and the Lord loves you very much.)
These pseudo-real dreams are starting to wig me out.
Because either I don't want them to come true and they DO. :(
Or I'd REALLY like them to be true and they AREN'T. :( :(