All I can remember from last night's dreams were the emotions - very petulant, nasty, bitchy emotions. I seem to recall locking myself in my room to get away from people, almost like I used to do when I was a teenager. Of course, this may have something to do with the book I'm reading, but I was not happy visiting that time again.
The book is "Her Blood is Gold", by Lara Owen, which deals with women's cycles and the spirituality behind them.
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