I’m a little under the weather. Whatever *that* phrase means. Aren’t I always under the weather?
I came down with a cold or flu right after wearing those colonial clothes in my last post. Nothing major; sniffles, running nose, occasionally cough. My eyes burn and my scalp is tender. I may have a low grade fever that comes and goes.
I didn’t eat much yesterday, and drank a 20 oz bottle of Diet Coke in the afternoon. I think the lack of food, the excess caffeine, and the shot of Nyquil I took before bedtime gave me weird, weird dreams. I don’t feel like I slept, though I’m sure I did. My brain felt active all night, stumbling across weird images, propositions, conversations.
My dreams are always active; it’s like going to the movies. Usually, there’s some sort of plot or esoteric meaning (or perhaps only some regurgitated bell pepper) in my dreams, but last night was just random stuff. I’ll give you a sampling; tell me if it makes your brain go *pop*.
I’m dreaming that my laptop is on the fritz; no matter what application I’m using, pressing the F1 “Help” key pops up pictures of random zoo animals. I take it to, where else, a hospital, to have my laptop looked at.
While I’m waiting for my turn to see a doctor, Tom Cruise comes in. Apparently, he’s had some sort of stroke, but before the doctors medicate him, he wants somebody to call his fiancée. Except he now has an odd lisp, and it comes out “fiance-pay.” The doctor asks what the heck a fiance-pay is. Since I have a laptop, I thought I’d google the entertainment news to see if Tom Cruise is actually engaged, but I can’t get Internet Explorer to come up.
As an alternate, I decide to look up “fiance-pay” to see if that’s a real word, but my Microsoft Word aborts with an error. I press F1 for Help, and a drawing of an aardvark pops up on my screen, and the doctor asks me why I’m looking at aardvarks at a time like this.
I think the word “aardvark” sounds funny, so I repeat it 3 times. Aardvark, aardvark, aardvark… and wake myself up laughing at the word aardvark.
Awake yet again, I roll over, and start the next random Nyquil-and-caffeine-induced dream sequence. And I thought of stuff just like this all night long.
Today, I’m very tired. And sniffly. And drinking another Diet Coke.
Chasing the Wind 
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