and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

It seems to be a slow day all around and I'm right there in the middle of it, stumbling to work at noon (I didn't bother to set an alarm) despite having been up and feeling quite rested at 6am in order to urinate. I think I have a sleeping disorder. Syndrome? Ailment. Who doesn't like a good ailment now and again?

Coffee in the afternoon is no doubt a large contributing factor, as is a progressively worsening bedtime that creeps far into the AM by the time I give it a good kick in the pants and re-adjust to midnight or so. Even then, it rarely lasts and I find myself once again listening to the old hitchiker's guide to the galaxy radio show on my aging iBook in the pre-dawn hours, feeling utterly fresh and unwaveringly awake despite the heavy-lidedness I know I will be subjected to in the very near future, riding the bike to work with eyes squinted tight against the shiny yellow ball-o-sun, walking about the office zombie like with the bitter breath of a caffeine junkie, sneaking off to the bathroom to take 5 minute power naps standing up and then splashing my face awake with cold water from the tap when I'm done.

So it's likely that my ailment, as so many are, is just inside my head and I am in fact my own worst enemy. My lack of a habitually consistent bedtime, my overdosage of coffee, my heavy summer drinking regime, these are the real and undeniable factors. This is not a genetic flaw or some mineral deficiency. This is nothing but my very own - probably controlable - problem.

Nevertheless it's slow days like these that hit me the worst. When there is little to do, no deadlines, and the day just draaagggsss by. Even when I just got in at noon.