Some days you got it, some days you sit for two hours, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, because you’re looking for a kid you know, carrying a big-ass candy cane, walking somewhere next to the float with Santa Clause on it, but instead, at the last moment, NBC cuts to commercial, and when they come back, the Zombie Queen of Christmas** is singing an old song she won’t even legally allow other artists do a cover of, because Zombie Queen, and then the parade is over, and all you’ve got for a Day 24 post is a picture of the tiny breakfast tostadas you made and slapped up all over social media, while waiting for the nice kid with the Styrofoam and glitter candy cane to walk past the camera during the parade.
*breathe, Bill, breathe*
Well, at least Hoda looked warm.
So were the tostadas.
Seriously, that’s all I got. The tostadas were good, but I’m a little over-caffeinated for the second consecutive day because for the second consecutive night I didn’t get as much sleep… okay, remember in my Day 23 post, I mentioned how a writer’s writing could change if they didn’t get enough sleep… as I ought to, because of nightmares about death and dying… not my death, other people’s deaths, but no one you know… so I’m not even having my customary eggnog latte while writing this.
I find it an exceptionally funny thing when, after I overcame what your family and friends would have called a “premature death” in your own life, the subject of death and dying becomes a recurring theme in dreams that used to be primarily made up of work-related fears, car accidents, and dark-leathery demons sitting on my chest. In any case, at least now the dreams are also better lit and the camera focus of my dream sight is much, much sharper.
Yep, damn near 4k.
There’s an obscure passage in the book of the prophet Joel which reads,
“…I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams.”
And while I won’t tell you how I remember that… because it’s so much more fun if I just let you all guess… I will say that, as I get older, the dreams keep coming, and they keep getting sharper and sharper.
And even I don’t know what the hell they mean.
But anyway, tostadas. I recommend the mini flour tortillas from Trader Joe’s. And remember kids, life is too short to pan-fry your tostadas in anything other than REAL BUTTER. So, like I said about 300 words back up the page, that’s all I got. Hopefully, I will get a richly rewarding, 8 hours’ sleep tonight. A sleep devoid of anything triggering.
Oh, and one more usual thing, the question. What robs YOU of the sleep your body needs? Is it nightmares? General anxiety. An enlarged prostate? Snoring (yours or another’s)? Maybe something from totally out of left-field? You know I’d love to hear about it, and maybe compare notes.
Talk to you tomorrow.
**Mariah Carey (as if you didn’t know)