I was in bed just before 8 PM last night. It was still light out, but I am trying desperately to get onto a consistent schedule and I figured if I got into bed, I wouldn’t be distracted by TV; I could sit quietly and read for 30 minutes or so, which is exactly what I did.
It has been getting pretty cool at night–the temperature last night dipped to 37 degrees. I had the central heat turned off in the house, but turned on my trusty space-heater in the bedroom. I woke up at about 2:30 AM and it was cold in the room. My trusty space-heater of nearly 5 years had apparently died. (Fortunately, I have a newer space-heater that I keep as a backup in the closet and was able to pull it out on a moments notice and before long, the room had warmed up again.)
Thereafter, my night was thrown into unsettled dreams. Not nightmares, you understand, just short, strange dreams:
Earlier in the day, I sent mabfan an email asking him for some advice on author bios. I had a dream last night that he wrote me back an email message which I was certain contained the key to the perfect author bio, but whose letters were so garbled that no matter how I tried, I couldn’t read the message. (Fortunately, this morning, while brushing my teeth, I found a reply from mabfan with simple and excellent advice on this subject.
I turned on the Yankee game at 7 PM, having discovered it was on ESPN and watched the first three innings before deciding to call it quits and head off to bed. Shortly before or after (I can’t remember), I caught a few minutes of Mr. & Mrs Smith on HBO. I had another dream last night that Angelina Jolie and I had some kind of fight in a parking garage stairwell. I have no idea what the fight was about, or why we were in the parking garage stairwell in the first place (though I’m sure that strausmouse will have ideas enough for both of us). The dream lasted five minutes and was unusual in the sense that I almost never dream about movie stars.
When I turned out the light to go to sleep last night, I knew only that the Yankees and Mariners were tied. Just before going to bed, however, I got a text message from jkashlock telling me he was attending his first Yankees game (he’s a Mariner’s fan). I had a short dream last night that both jkashlock and strausmouse were spamming me with email about how “their team” won, neener-neener-nee-ner. When I woke up this morning I had no idea whether or not the Yanks had won or lost. I forgot to check before leaving the house, but discovered a short time ago that they lost 3-2 in a blown save by Kyle Farnsworth.
Those are the unsettled dreams that I remember. There may have been more that I don’t. Needless to say, I got 8 hours of sleep and when my alarm went off at 4:25 AM, I decided to take another hour or so, and skip the gym. It was a bad decision on my part, but something that I’ve been doing all too frequently. Sigh!