Didn't sleep terribly well Sunday and Monday nights. Probably expected after the Google party Thursday night, a late night Friday and Saturday Halloween at Carole's.
But last night had one of those great evenings where you get home from an exhausted day at work, grab some dinner, manage a semi-productive evening and then pass out really damn early and just dream hard all night. You can feel your brain mending as you sleep as whatever fatigue centers exist up there begin to slowly recede.
2009 by Stephen Aitken
As you're going through your muddled dreams this fading away of exhaustion actively serves to make the dreams themselves better, as if in whatever plot exists, however senseless or cruel, itself becomes more enjoyable if only because you somehow know back in the real world that you're getting some good heavy-drool sleep action.
Last night I dreamt that a coworker found a better job and gave his employers a two-week notice, basically giving the company a big middle finger. Their response was "Good! You think you can do better? So go!", before realizing afterward how much they'd lost.
The rest was all a jumble involving Irina, France and Block Island, like most nights only an undecipherable mess the next morning. Yet somehow not un-great.
The first part's probably not too hard to interpret given how everything in a dream is allegedly yourself.
The last part? Probably not too hard either.
Comments