Dream last night: I was lost in a huge museum, similar to the MFA in Boston, at least the original musrum, with very high ceilings, lots of marble, no windows, like a train station on steroids. Wandering around, I was looking for Bart. A few of us (four?)stopped by a large shallow pool of water where we climbed onto floating pads the dimensions of a door. We immediately became so weak and so sleepy it was as if we had been drugged. Frightened because I could not open my eyes, I began to cry for help. Eventually I managed to garner enough strength to paddle to the edge of the pool and drag myself off the floating pad. I went searching for Bart in the cavernous empty spaces of the museum, eventually seeing him walking toward me, only to lose him again when we were clsoe to the exit and he disappeared into the crowd surrounding the entrance desk. I ran down the stairs and out a side door into the sunlight where I saw Bart walking toward me. It wasn't until I was relating the dream to Bart that I realized it was a plane crash dream.
I stood all day long in the studio yesterday which was both good and bad. Good because this meant I was hard at work on something, bad because at the end of the day my back ached as it hasn't in a long time and I had to drag out the heating pad again along with the Advil. I assume it was because of standing in one place for hours at a time. I actually have been feeling so much better overall that this took my by surprise, even though it might have been the case even without the back issues. I've been walking every day for at least an hour followed by at least a half hour of stretching and strengthening exercises. AND I have been doing my job on the curling ice, sweeping and delivering my stones with my old slide delivery, a sure sign of healing.