DAMMIT

And you know what else? You know what else, too? GODDAMMIT!

I dreamed that I went to a little used bookstore, and they had a whole bunch of copies of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian, and one of each was the edition that I really love, that little wee edition that my mum read them to us out of when we were so tiny that we couldn't even eat an entire hot dog at a time, and they were only ninety cents each.

And just now while I was working on something else, I thought of those books and how happy I was to have those editions, even if it was only with two of the seven, and then I remembered that it was all a dream. DAMN IT.

I'm so distressed and dismayed that I can't even work out whether this is reasonable or unreasonable crankiness. I'm leaving it untagged.