Work is very stressful right now. I’ve been trying to deal by…I don’t know. Going for walks. Thinking calming thoughts. Conquering worlds on video games. Crocheting.

But I just can’t get calm.

I had a dream that I knew a woman who married a creek and they had crawdads as children and she said to me, “You can’t love 47,000 children equally.”

And I woke up in a kind of feeling of horror and like I’d just realized something profound. But what? I’m not sure.

Still, man, you don’t want to be the chick with crawdads pouring out of your cooter. I assume crawdads must be an egg thing, right? Like you’d just go out in the yard, drop a bunch of eggs, and leave them to hatch or not on their own.

Or maybe in the creek?

I definitely would have to learn more about the early life of crawdads before I married a creek.


4 thoughts on “Stress

  1. Based on my childhood fascination with crawdads, they stick the eggs to the underside of their tail? I know the babies ride around on the underside of the tail for a while. Okay, now I’m off to Google crawdads just to get my memories clear.

  2. Hmm. My best Lucy van Pelt in Jungian mode: Extraordinary commitments often lead to highly unusual challenges? You make your (river) bed, then however weird it is, you still have to lie in it? Being called to partner with folk magic and spirits, intimately hearing the voices of the land, may lead to your creative offspring being not what you expected, but a thriving brood nonetheless? (Also, maybe, based on your last comment, stock up on breathable underwear come spring?)

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