And who gave me the book?

First, though: if you think you recognise it from somewhere, I'll admit that I'm using an old photo today. I didn't bring my nerdstick with me, so you're getting the shot I use as my wallpaper here at work. I like it. Not bad for an autofocus camera, I think.

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Now, who gave me the book? It's going to drive me nuts, you know.

I should explain.

The past few days my brain has been doing its usual stupid trick of waking up at godawful in the morning, but then following that with the unusual trick of getting back to sleep for a couple of hours.

Yes, my brain's finally figured out that I don't have to be at work in the morning these days. In the afternoon, either. In case you hadn't noticed, the Toronto office has been working a little harder lately because I'm not always near a computer to edify and enlighten you.

Or whatever.

Where was I? Oh yeah, sleeping in.

Sleeping in has led to a few weird moments (like yesterday's, where I was woken up by the phone that I apparently turned on the first time I woke up, missed the call, found the phone was on low battery, put it on the charger, and found out a couple of hours later that I'd missed something kind of important. Sorry about that, folks), and today's weird moment is incredibly frustrating.

I had a dream, you see.

I don't normally remember many dreams. I had a problem with night terrors as a child, and I think that my brain (gee, my brain seems to be the major blog character today) decided at some point that if I was going to insist upon freaking myself out at night then at least I shouldn't have to remember that I'd done it.

Did that make any sort of sense? I have a bit of a headache right now, I have to say. Make your own English out of the above if you have to.

Anyway, I won't trouble you with the details of this morning's dream (they're not important, honestly), but towards the end I was told that someone had left a book for me. One of those Dummies books (I'm so not telling you the full title, but in the dream I knew it was meant as a joke). I flipped open the cover briefly, saw there was a note on the front page in vaguely familiar writing, put the book down so that I could just finish One. More. Thing...

And woke up.

Dammit.

Now I'll never know who gave me the book.

Do you have any idea how annoying that is?






Ah well. Not much I can do about it, I suppose. I need to go shopping now. It's the 14th, and I haven't actually started yet.

Do you think that's a problem?

What would be a problem now would be if any of you got nasty on me and BOUGHT me a Dummies book. I know you might find it funny after all of this (and it might BE funny) but don't do it.

DON'T DO IT.

Just don't.

Ok?




Ok.