Village in Istalif, Afghanistan. Serene and beautiful.
i had "one of those dreams" last night. one of those dreams where your house is being attacked by suicide bombers. i can't remember much, except that there is the predictable ruckus sounds outside, then someone yelling "the car has been attacked!" and i see it careening down our street from the upstairs window and think, "man, if bad dudes follow that car they'll end up at our freakin house!", which of course, they do. so everyone in the house is knocking on doors and telling people to wake up and go upstairs to the Safe Room. instead of having feelings of terror, as one might expect when under a terrorist attack, i had anxieties about repeatedly forgetting to bring everything i "needed" with me to the safe room. now of course if this were not a dream i would probably not go back downstairs first to get my passport, then to get a pair of shoes, then finally to get my laptop so i could maybe watch a movie on it while we're all cooped up in there. and of course, the dream ended with me rushing into the Safe Room dead last, but just in time - which mirrors the reality of my arrival on the front porch for work every morning.
note: due to various factors, i do not believe this would actually occur in real life. so please don't worry about me. i'm guessing there's a higher probability of me getting some deadly respiratory infection from the fecal matter and other junk in the air.
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