I Was Talking and Singing in My Sleep

One of those long involved dreams. Lee said he stood in the doorway and listened to my entire conversation with an imaginary dream person on the phone. I was only conscious at the part where I said "It was nice almost meeting you" (not sarcastic) and then "hung up."

How do you hang up an imaginary phone.

Lee has an interview today for a possible promotion. I hope this isn't one of those deals where the job has already been promised because he deserves this.

His schedule will still suck though, I imagine. Probably worse.

But he will have more vacation time and then we can go someplace not America when the weather changes.

And he will buy more toys. That he can explain to me.

Godzilla was in my dreams too but I can't remember what we were talking about.

I am not a purist and don't pronounce his name "that other way."

More and more the mail seems unreal when it comes.

Sometimes I touch it but don't read it.

We get mail for people that used to live in this house five years ago, ten years ago, and ???

Sometimes I like to make up stories for these other people.

I get their Christmas cards.

Sometimes I want to write funny things instead of "no longer at this address" or "return to sender" on these envelopes.

Maybe "she died while attempting congress with an aroused narwhal in rough polar seas" or "he has a commune where the ashramites converse with dead poets through flowers" or "i sauteed his liver and ate it with some fava beans and a nice little Chianti...thwuthuthuthooh."

But there are probably federal regulations concerning communications like these.