I’ve been sleeping unusually well for the past week. Usually I wake up at 3 a.m. on the dot, for no discernable reason, and prompty have strange hallucinations alone in my room. These often include scenarios in which I’m lying in bed, but in a classroom and trying valiantly to stay awake (because, you know, it’s rude to sleep in class. Even if you did bring your whole bed…) or odd visions in which people from soap operas come to argue their case in front of me. And by “case” I mean Joan Collins circa 1986 tells me all about her many lovers while wearing a gold lame cocktail gown. Nighttime with Hilary is all kinds of fun!
Luckily, these visions of academia and golden delicious fun have stopped for now.
Unluckily, my subconcious has taken over the job of generating twelve kinds of crazy every night, and last night’s result was this very odd dream:
Boss Lady – “Hey everybody, thanks for coming to the staff meeting. We have lots of things to discuss today. To kick things off, where are we with the ship insurance?”
Me – “Um, we don’t have any. But as soon as they start making ships with tall towers again, we’re going to need to get some. You know, because of pirates.”
Boss Lady – “Good thinking!”
Good thinking, indeed! I may hate my job, but at least I’m on top of my shit where the safety of our loot and booty is concerned.