Nothing much, but the ever attuned mystic-synchro mind couldn't help but note that today:
Woke up with a nosebleed. Me, at 64. Used to get them all the time when I was a child. But now?
Nothing so sinister, alien wise. Far more likely that the nosebleed had to do with allergies. Which are really bad, worse than usual, in the "Valley of Sickness" here in the Willamette Valley in Oregon. And in fact, a co-worker had a nosebleed recently, as well as a fifth grader. This morning's local paper even had an article on the bad allergy laden air around these parts.
Chatting with a co-worker on the way in this morning; we mentioned our sleep and dream patterns, etc. and she says "I've had dreams about aliens, but they're just dreams. At least I tell myself that." (paraphrasing.) So I of course say "Are you sure they're just dreams?" and "How do you know?" (they're just dreams.) I tell her we have to talk; she tells me she's not sure she believes in aliens, and yet, but, . . . I tell her about how "I'm all about that stuff!" and she seemed interested.
Late this afternoon, my spouse mentions the Monk episode of the UFO. As much as we are fond of that show, when it came to UFOs, oh, it's sad. Typical take on the tin foil hat wearing joke heads who "believe" in UFOs. And oh, yes, the "UFO" turned out not to be a UFO at all, of course. Because there are not such things.