I've been thinking about writing a play for children, babies specifically. The plot is complicated, with lots of twists and milk. There wouldn't be any babies IN the play; I'd be too concerned about losing one.
Today I wondered if I will grow up to become one of those women who keep Kleenex in their sleeve. The prospect doesn't thrill me; hopefully by then they will have invented pockets or garbage cans.
Have you ever tripped in your dream only to have your leg kick up in real-life bed? Me too! I tried video taping myself while I slept to capture it, but the dailies were boring so I cancelled the project.
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