Thursday, April 6, 2006

I dream in color

I dream in color. My dreams are always vivid, whether they're really fun or absolutely terrifying.

I had this awful dream that we were transporting this woman to a battered women's shelter, and there were like 10 cars driving there (so that we could lose her husband on the road, she could switch cars, etc). But the van I was driving died. So I had to pedal to get this huge van to move, and I could see her husband in the rear view mirror. So I am pedaling (like a bicycle) to get her to the rendezvous point (a bubble tea restaurant in Oakland), where I sit with the Saturday knitting group and have a leisurely tea.

As the husband was walking in to intercept us, I wake with a start. To find Niki sleeping LENGTHWISE in my spot, head on my pillow and EVERYTHING. And then he yawns in my face with butt-breath. Blech.

So, I cuddle up to Andrew, hear my radio turn on (because the buzzer startles me and gives my morning a harsh start), and think to myself, "Just 5 more minutes…"

I overslept. By about an hour. So much for what I thought was 5 minutes.

Anyway, I was only 20 minutes late to work. Explain how I could manage to get myself out the door in 7 minutes when it normally takes five times that long.

In other news:

My [allegedly] paternal grandmother is having alleged cardiac problems. There is true and reasonable doubt on both counts. Here is why:

(a) My aunt and uncle joke that they found my father in a shoebox on the front stoop. They treat him like it, too.

(b) He doesn't look like ANYONE in his family. No resemblance AT ALL. Sam and I look like him, but he is the odd one out. If I get around to it I'll scan the "family" photo that we all took when we went to Iran in 1991. Sam, Dad, and I all stick out. And nobody looks like us.

I also doubt that she is actually having cardiac issues NOT ONLY because I am admittedly an evil bitch, but also because my grandmother is a hypochondriac for attention. If one person is sick and getting attention, so too is my grandmother. Insensitive of me to say so? Yes. True? Also yes.

I LOVE MY JOB! (Part 1,000,000)

A parade (15) hot firemen just strolled by my office. If they start dancing and taking off their clothes, I may never leave here. Ever. I am magnanimous enough to volunteer some stripper music (the stuff from the Full Monty will do, right?), if they're in a dancing mood.

Thought of the day…

There isn't a word in English for a man whom a married woman is having an affair with. I propose "Manstress". In Spanish, the term is "Sancho." Vote "yes" on "Manstress".

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