My dreams aren’t particularly memorable. At least, that’s what I assume; I don’t remember them when I wake. Adulthood has made them boring. I know I dream despite drawing memory blanks because I haven’t gone insane, an unfortunate side-effect of an inability to reach REM sleep. [i] I no longer have the nightmare problems I had as a child. When I was eight, and then … Continue reading My dreams aren’t that memorable.
I have an excellent memory when it comes to minutiae, and I win at trivia games quite regularly – although it helps if I don’t get too many questions about sports. Ask me to tell you a joke, however, and I draw blanks. Ditto when it comes to producing pointed or appropriate quotes. I do better at remembering paragraphs or books, perhaps because one only … Continue reading In the end, there can be only one quote.
There are ten books on my bedside table. I don’t usually count the books in my “getting to it” pile, so that was a bit of a surprise. There are a further sixteen in the library downstairs, but I suspect those will die with spines uncracked. Then there are the e-books. I have five waiting on my Kindle, with a further three on the library … Continue reading It’s not hoarding if it’s books.
If you’re someone who struggles with anxiety, then lists can be part of your happy place. For me, one of the worst things about anxiety is feeling out of control. Control is important to me. Control is my safe space. Archimedes wanted a long lever: I find salvation in order. [i] Repeated studies show that having a gratitude practice improves one’s life. Report after … Continue reading Happiness is a list: five things I’m grateful for today.
From Famine to Feast 