Seventh

I am so happy that my Internet pal Joanna is playing along with NaBloPoMo (god, that rolls off the tongue/keyboard, n'est-ce pas?). She's one of my very very favorite blogger/poet/facebookers, and I hope to buy her a pumpkin whoopie pie one fine day.

I took a nap today, and I had a dreadful dream: I was riding in the backseat of a car being driven by one of Isaac's friends (not a friend who has a driver's license in real life), with another of his friends (one he is currently angry at IRL) riding shotgun. Nobody had their seat belts on, and Christian the first friend was driving like a maniac, running red lights, etc. The music was too loud for them to hear my frantic hollering to slow down. Not only that, but it was my mom and dad's car. Not only that, but I also lived in the Brady Bunch house.