I’ve found the longer I go without writing, the harder it is to come up with stuff to write about. So, I’m writing this to just keep the wheels turning. Let’s see . . .
Last night I had this dream where people kept stealing my car out of this parking lot, but returning it late into the night. This happened for several days in a row, and every time it would happen I would get frustrated that I managed to forget to lock my car again. At one point my brain changed my car from my current 2001 Honda Civic into my old 1991 Geo Storm. I kept considering calling the police, but couldn’t work up the motivation. Eventually I showed up late at night when my car was returned, and it was propped up on the parking block with the hood open. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew that everything vital was still there. I went into this nearby coffee shop and started laying down the law on this barista (because I knew that she worked for the evil guy behind taking my car), and we started battling for my keys. I fought especially fiercely because I was fueled by my frustration at the inappropriate nature and narcissism of those scantily-clad baristas in those coffee stands (for the record, this barista was fully clothed, but I knew somehow that she was still one of them because she looked just like the airhead girl in the news story I saw on the subject yesterday). I emerged victorious from our squabble and stepped out from the coffee shop to face the evil guy, but he hadn’t arrived yet and I awoke before he was there.
Those are good dreams to wake up from, because you eventually realize, “Oh, hey, my car isn’t being stolen! Or at least I don’t think it is. Maybe I should get up and check. Nah. I’m tired and it’s only 4:30.”