I’m coming up on Day 10,000. It’s important because it’s the number of days equal to the number of our fingers multiplied by itself four times. Really, that’s why. I mentioned to several folks that I was going to team celebrate this event with an apartment warming, but eventually decided that said shindig would be at a later date. Or a prior date. Don’t limit me.

Two nights ago I dreamt that I nearly capsized and captured a sailboat captained by Glenn Beck. But then I was captured by him and tortured with a thumbtack pressed repeatedly into my forehead. (I’m not sure if you’d call it torture; I guess only a Senate committee could decide.) Then last night I dreamt I went on a fishing trip, primarily to see an old high school friend. When my family got to the lake, I realized that not only was my friend not coming, but that the limited joy I would have received from fishing was stolen by my 8-year old cousin, who refused to share the equipment. I amused myself by trying to throw large rocks into the lake but only succeeded in breaking off the last two planks of the dock. Let’s try to tease apart these themes:

Nautical: Probably due to the urge to urinate while sleeping. Further evidence for this is that I was trying to capsize Beck’s sailboat with a giant water cannon. (Really, it was huge. No lie, HUGE!)

Failure: My impotent attempts to capture Mr. Beck and to throw rocks probably indicate subconscious feelings of inadequacy. I find the best way to deal with these is to self-aggrandize and immediately take the defensive in all potential interpersonal conflicts. That’s the best way. What are you going to do about it?!

Torture: It seems harsh to compare multiple head wounds to being around my cousin, but did you ever cry after a game of Uno? And then later after Monopoly? And still again following Guess Who? Well I have, and it was this summer.

My dreamscapes have been a lot more vivid lately. Less Monet, more Dali, backstitches