Hubby emptied the dishwasher and I refilled it and had it run after I cooked for tonight. The quiche was tasty but the cream weirdly enough seemed to have curdled. And the bacon was old. We ate it anyway, and both liked it enough. I should go to bed soon. It is almost 9pm. Time for my last cigarette. 

Now that i think of it, these reincarnation stories are a bit weird. The one I was the most sure of was the future black lady nun and mother. I dont know why I started painting this lady in 2018. It goes back a long way this story about that supposedly future life. Why did I phantom it in 2018, guided by inspiration and not much else? So many details have come to mind. Is it madness? Or just loose energy?