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What Kind of Witch Are You?
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Hail eris?
In other news, I had a dream about Oliver Cromwell and his son. I have no idea why. I don't know what happened, just that they were there, and I think they were fighting and the son said "but dad, I don't *want* to be Lord Protector of England!" Cue whinging. It was odd. I have odd dreams, and this must have been a nightmare, could I have bet remembered it. Instead, I'm just confused.
I need to bring a camera to class tomorrow. I walked across the bridge over part of the pond thing, and looked into the ice. It was so thin, and so perfectly clear I could see down to the sluge on the floor. And there I found at least two shopping carts (one was too far away to make out clearly) and a bicycle. All were brown and fuzzy, and kinda scary for that. There was a black and purple notebook on the sirface that I wanted to rescue--it looked so alone and helpless--and a seagull walking on the ice. It made a rather amusing reflection, where one expects to see bird above meld into bird below, this was bird--bird, with a little space between. Which, in the middle of a pond, seemed funny. Or maybe I'm just delirious. Pretty normal state, really, but especially when 'm being sick.