Last night I had a caramel apple party. 12 of my friends came over and I provided the apples, the caramel, the melted chocolate, the sprinkles, and the crushed walnuts. My friends had the choice to bring either champagne or a savory dish. One friend brought cheese and crackers. 11 brought champagne.
The point being, after ushering everyone out of 10:00 pm and de-caramelizing my kitchen, I had very strange dreams.
I dreamed about Goma. It was a strange place. Lots of ex-pats everywhere, sprinkled throughout. Everyone speaking some strange version of French that I couldn't keep up with. Motorcycles that flew yards off the ground. Men selling craft necklaces that they'd made themselves -- out of glass. No colorful fabrics. Women nowhere to be seen. Everyone rushing around and no one explaining what my job was or what I was needed to do.
I woke myself up in the middle of the night (I always do; I sleep on an air mattress that deflates itself every couple of hours) and when I fell back asleep, I dreamed the same creepy dream all over again.
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