| Current mood: |  depressed |
| Current music: | Robert W. Morgan, KHJ Los Angeles, February 22, 1969 2A |
Dream Du Jour
I was going to write this one yesterday but I couldn't due to excessive pain and suffering, so it's really Yesterday's Dream Du Jour. I don't think that's going to diminish your enjoyment of it any, though. It's teaching you a valuable lesson, too, which is: Really good things come to those who wait. And, if you don't like it at all, at least it's ruining your life when there's one less day of it to go through now.
Either way, I've got you covered. And now, I guess, it's time to get started but first I want to announce that I now know what is wrong with me. Physically, because there is nothing wrong with me mentally. And anyone who tells you differently is crazy.
And I found out what's wrong with me not by wasting a lot of time and money seeing a doctor. I did it the old fashioned way: Self Diagnosis. It was pretty easy because the only thing that could hurt this bad is a severe case of inoperable fourth stage shoulder cancer.
The good news is that it feels a little better today and it seems to be responding to Advil. Any good inoperable fourth stage shoulder cancer specialist will tell you that that's very typical as the disease progresses. I just wish that it would get the pain part over with already and then get me out of here.
I'm getting a headache, too, which I'm sure is a brain tumor, but we don't have time to go into that because it's time to talk about this dream I had the night before last. As I mentioned yesterday, it had an eerie quality to it but not really, when you consider that it happens to me all the time.
And that thing is that it seemed to match that morning's Coast. The dream was (evidently, as far as I can tell) set in the future and this future owed a lot to the Jetsons. Well, one part of it, anyway. And that was the cars. You know how George Jetson would push a button on his car and it folded up into a briefcase?
Well, the cars in this dream did something similar but even better. You pushed a button on your car and it shrunk into a miniature version of itself that was the size and weight of a Hot Wheels car. Then you could just put it in your pocket or wherever (I saw a girl put hers down her cleavage) and parking was no longer an issue.
But it still was. For reasons I can't remember now, I was at a large university campus (Maybe it was the U Of I and I was there for shoulder cancer treatments but that's just a guess) and I was having trouble finding wherever it was I was supposed to go and the problem was compounded by the Parking Police.
They kept harassing me by telling me that I needed to pay all kinds of fees and remember where I had parked...there were tons of huge empty parking lots...and I kept trying to explain that I wasn't going to pay for anything I didn't need and I didn't need parking.
It didn't help that everyone else was paying and going to the parking lots to start their journey to wherever they were going next and were even paying parking tickets that seemed to just be randomly assigned to people. And when I tried to talk to them, they just said you had to pay for parking.
It didn't take me long to figure out that a bunch of very low level bureaucrats had saved their jobs by convincing everyone that they needed their obsolete services and then when I woke up and turned on Coast, Ian was talking to Richard Bach about how people were programmed to do things and it fit the dream perfectly.
Now, some people...like you, George...say that this isn't a coincidence at all because there are no coincidences and others say it means nothing because everything is just a meaningless coincidence and we would debate the issue at length if we had time but we don't.
Because I want to practice some more medicine. I don't have a license or anything but what I lack in credentials I more than make up for in natural talent and enthusiasm. If I had a nickel for every satisfied patient I've ever played doctor with, I wouldn't need this crummy job.
And I would have a nickel from each of them if it weren't for the stupid AMA saying that if I charge for my services, it's a crime. And then the Vice Squad said it would be illegal for a completely different reason. So that's why I'm doing this for free. This is your lucky day because you're getting a bunch of priceless medical care for free.
I got this idea from Minx, my secretary:
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Need more energy? Here are some really surprising, non-caffeinated, ways to rev you up...
1. Change your socks.
I know, odd, right? I read about this one over at Zen Habits. The advice is to bring an extra pair of socks to work and sometime around 3 p.m. when you hit your slump, take off your shoes and socks (and maybe air out your feet for a sec if you have a private office; if you don't, that would be a nada) and then put a fresh pair of socks on. Voila! "You'll be amazed at how much fresher you'll feel," write the Zen Habits bloggers. "This trick is especially handy on days with lots of walking."
http://www.relaxinghub.com/2009/10/5-surprising-ways-to-get-more-energy.html
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She always gets really relaxed and energetic when she removes her socks...and other articles of clothing but we're just concentrating on socks here...so all the testing is already done and all you have to do is do it. Minx also loves having her feet rubbed, too, but I don't recommend that because while it works when I do it, when I hired a new girl to do it, suddenly she didn't like it anymore.
I have to do more research on the foot rubbing girl before I can prescribe her. And it won't even cost you a nickel.
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