Why do people think that it's okay to be rude in an email as long as you follow it with a smiley face?

I had an unusual dream last night. It involved an ex-lover (I would say "boyfriend", but that really wouldn't be accurate), his bandmate, some woman (I have no idea), and a trip to a bed and breakfast in Canada. It was winter, cloudy and gray. The B&B was in some forest, near a lake, and it seemed to be made completely of tiny, steep stairways and low-ceilinged rooms. I remember always being afraid that the furniture, stairways, etc. were too fragile for my considerable girth. To enter the dining area, we were supposed to climb a twig ladder and go in through the second floor window. Of course, with my fear of heights and fear of breaking the ladder, I got halfway up and couldn't go any further. I couldn't go up and I couldn't back down. I ended up calling my "date" (who had gone on ahead without me) to come and get me. It seemed like part date and part slumber party, because everyone who was eating dinner at the restaurant ended up spending the night. I was running around in this long flannel nightgown looking for my dinner companions, and everytime I would find them, they'd come up missing again. In the lower part of the building it was all wood and brick and fireplaces, but the upper part, the sleeping quarters, was all white paint and bright blue carpet.

The Husband says dreams are not real, that they are only the brains way of making sense of our random thoughts. I'm in partial agreement. I can certainly see where some of these thoughts are coming from. I had been talking about this guy, yesterday, my work involves Canada, and I had seen a TV show over the weekend with a house that had amazing blue carpet. I've been worried about the health of my loved ones lately, so there's the fear thing (because heights is not really my greatest fear, it's just the greatest fear I say out loud!). I was feeling guilty about having to leave the boy alone today, so perhaps that's the "other woman" thing, but wouldn't that be someone I actually know? And what's with the B&B? I hate B&B's. Maybe I just need a vacation.

The night before I'd had a dream that I'd gone to a high school reunion and someone at my table was worried because the table of jocks was looking at us and laughing. I remember laughing out loud and saying, "Don't let them bug you! Don't you know Geeks are the new Jocks?" That seemed to settle many years of high school angst, right there.

I've been using mousse in my hair instead of the no-frizz products I've been using of late. Now, it's freaky curly and keeps its shape. Also, I've gotten rid of the evil slip-n-slide shampoo and my showers are much more stable.

I was watching the whole "Oprah's Boot Camp" on Monday. (Yeah, I know. Whatever...) And she was spilling the rules for her little program.

* No alcohol - No problem. I can do this one.
* 8 Hours of Strenuous exercise per week - Um...what? Okay, say this was really going to happen. Then what?
* Eat consciously - Okay, I get it. Stop eating in front of the computer, tv, book, etc. but not even a magazine?
* No white food. (Processed sugar and flour, pasta, milk, etc.) - No PASTA? What other food is there? And Coke is not white, can I still have that?
* Stop eating 2-3 hours before bed - No problem. I've been doing this all week. Oh, except for those cupcakes on Tuesday. And those chips last night. But those were eaten while watching TV, so we've already busted that rule. And it shouldn't count.

As usual, these are already things I know. I could write a bestselling diet book - as long as they don't put my picture on the cover. And I was doing really well there, for a while, but now I'm not and it is pissing me off. Which makes me want a chili cheese burrito instead of making me what to do better.

Why am I so screwed up? Oh, yeah. There's that.

The Boy is feeling better today. It did not burn my hand to touch him this morning. His voice is all husky, but he seems to be coming out of it. I just called him and he has showered and dressed and says he feels fine. He sounds like his head is still full of gunk, but he sounds cheerfully distracted by the moving pictures on the screen I'm sure he's facing.

I ordered a bunch (okay, 3) Anne*Lamott books and two of them have been delivered. Since I finished the David*Sedaris book on Monday, I dove right into "Operating*Instructions..." which is the diary of her son's birth and first year. She is such an amazingly honest writer. I have a hard time putting down her books. Thanks, Jim, for hooking me up. I hate to think I would have missed her.

Also, if I mention a book you might like to read, I'll happily pass it along. Just let me know.

There are three people gone from our little department today. The work is slow enough that I don't really notice their absence, but the noise level seems incredibly low this morning. It's kind of bringing me down. I guess I'll pop on the headphones and pour myself back into whatever work there is.

Toodles. (Does anyone say that any more?)