If you are like me, you might tune out on this post, it's about a dream I had last night, and whenever someone tells me about their dreams, I usually tune out, I think to myself, "Yeah, but it was just a dream."
So yes, this was just a dream. I was wrestling with a pig. I was in Italy. The pig was dressed like a General, and for some reason, I thought the pig was Il Duce, Mussolini himself. At least, for sure, it was a very distinguished pig. It was also a very, very large pig; round, heavy, slippery. And it was relentless. It was doing it's best to sit on me. To pin me to the ground. I was grappling around. Frantically trying to escape. The pig found this to be very funny. I was being abused and laughed at by this enormous pig.
After some sloppy wrestling around on the ground I finally escaped. I found some extra strength and just rolled this enormous pig off me, and then I ran like hell. I left that big roly-poly pig in a heap. I think I will choose to think of this as a very positive omen. Why? Why not? It was my dream!