No nightmares. Just swinish jurisprudence.

I’ve been having some uncommonly awful nightmares the last few nights, which have been good on one level because they force me out of bed around 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning, thus making my day more productive. But instead of my typical five hours of sleep, I’ve been getting about three or four, which even for me can be tough.

This morning I am once again up at 4:00 AM, this time with a dog who is clearly not feeling well.

But good news.

No nightmares last night.

Instead, I had a dream about the book What's Wrong, Little Pookie, a current Clara favorite, which tells the story about a mother trying to figure out what is wrong with her child. After much guessing on Mom’s part, Pookie admits that he can no longer remember the cause of his sadness, and therefore his problem has been solved.

What's Wrong, Little Pookie?

I spent most of last night cross-examining Pookie on the witness stand in a very realistic court room scenario, except of course for the cartoon pig. I hammered away at Pookie, upsetting the judge several times when I referred to Pookie as “A future slab of bacon!” and shouting, “Don’t lie, Pork Chop! You know what’s wrong! Now tell the court what the hell is the matter with you before I turn you into a ham sandwich.”

The judge declared me out of order several times and fined me a total of $6 for my insubordination.

Going to sleep every night is like walking into a haunted fun house for me.  It’s rarely boring, but it is almost never normal in any sense of the word.