Morning at the Market

It's the usual market day morning.  The same woman opened the door for me, smiling and saying, "Hi, Anne! Have a good day!"  Inside, I listen to Renee, the woman who sells handmade hats, complain about how coming in at 5am is killing her and that the market management has said they're going to raise the rent 50% next year. I commiserate with her and point to "Bastards!" on my communication board.

As Amy sets up my artwork and merch upon my table, a violinist and accordion player play cheerful and upbeat music.  As market musicians go, they're not bad. At least I don't want to scream and tear out my hair yet.

It's the same routine with very little variance.  My mind keeps drifting back to the two dreams I had about Rob last night. In the first dream, I was annoyed with him that he had piled his stuff (hard drives, DVDs, CDs, etc) way up to the ceiling in the living room. And, Rob, in turn, was annoyed with me because our closet was overflowing with my clothes. So, we compromised and agreed that we both needed to get rid of some stuff.

In the second dream, Rob wanted to go out but I didn't because I had a lot of work to do.  Of course, I gave in, as I almost always did because I loved making him happy.

And then, we were both in this empty room, sitting beside each other, kissing. And yet, it was quite apparent that we were angled and moved in such a way that we wouldn't aggravate each other's aches and pains.

When I woke up, I kept hearing Meatloaf singing I Would Do Anything for Love over and over in my head.