Sunday musings
In my poll from yesterday, the votes for the showdown are favoring The Circuit Rider over the Gay Mutant Black Ops, but it's a close thing.
In a different question, Sanzo is running neck to neck with a grilled cheese sandwich.
Meanwhile, I have a note to my subconscious: enough with the anxiety dreams! In the last few weeks, I have dreamed about oversleeping or spacing out and missing a flight, a class, and an appointment; having a friend stab me in the back (not literally); being diagnosed with a fatal illness; being run through with a sword; and having my book sell very poorly.
Last night, I dreamed that a very good friend of mine turned evil and did horrible things to me, which caused me to drink heavily, so I showed up for a magazine interview drunk out of my mind and was totally incoherent, and they printed everything I said verbatim. And then I forgot to give my pet rats water and they seemed to die of thirst, although after I spent several hours of dream-time devastated with sorrow and remorse, it occurred to me to try dripping water into their mouths and they revived. But still.
O my subconscious, I get it. I worry that I will "miss the boat." I worry that I am neglecting responsibilities and bad things will happen. I worry about my own mortality and that of others. I worry that my relationships won't work out. I worry about my career and making an ass of myself in public. I am an anxious and overworked person and I should relax more. I accept all of these messages.
But enough already! Now send me a dream about Sanzo. Or at least a grilled cheese sandwich.
In a different question, Sanzo is running neck to neck with a grilled cheese sandwich.
Meanwhile, I have a note to my subconscious: enough with the anxiety dreams! In the last few weeks, I have dreamed about oversleeping or spacing out and missing a flight, a class, and an appointment; having a friend stab me in the back (not literally); being diagnosed with a fatal illness; being run through with a sword; and having my book sell very poorly.
Last night, I dreamed that a very good friend of mine turned evil and did horrible things to me, which caused me to drink heavily, so I showed up for a magazine interview drunk out of my mind and was totally incoherent, and they printed everything I said verbatim. And then I forgot to give my pet rats water and they seemed to die of thirst, although after I spent several hours of dream-time devastated with sorrow and remorse, it occurred to me to try dripping water into their mouths and they revived. But still.
O my subconscious, I get it. I worry that I will "miss the boat." I worry that I am neglecting responsibilities and bad things will happen. I worry about my own mortality and that of others. I worry that my relationships won't work out. I worry about my career and making an ass of myself in public. I am an anxious and overworked person and I should relax more. I accept all of these messages.
But enough already! Now send me a dream about Sanzo. Or at least a grilled cheese sandwich.