So I've been trying out a new sleep-inducing tactic of letting Imogen- my nano- spin her sweet melodies into my receptive ears. Last night, sleep, my errant lover, welcomed me into his arms after several hours of listening to Broken Social Scene and Stars reminded me of why I became friends with these bands oh so many years ago.
But what really matters is that I enjoyed my dreams last night, however much they caused me to wake up even more exhausted than I had been before I tumbled into sleep.
Dreamscape the first: One of my university friends was preparing for graduation, even though she's only in second year. I'll call her Lucy. Lucy's freshmen friends, a gaggle of mouse-haired shortstops, corralled Lucy's respectable and respected older male friend- whom I will call Grant MacPherson- to ask him what Lucy should wear to the grad banquet. He replied, "Something satiny and tight to show off her stellar rack. Sweetheart neckline would be most flattering."
Dreamscape the second: I'm working at Melanie Lyne, which is really a video store that sells designer knock-offs under the table, but my bosses never tell me so. I keep trying to sneak away from work in order to save the world, but my assistant store manager is starting to catch on, so the next time I sneak away I put a mannequin behind the till in my stead. I am hunting down the scary scaly monsters from the videos I rented out that morning. They look like Puff the Magic Dragon but on steroids, with rabies.
The rest is private. Stop prying!
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