A dream is an unopened letter to yourself. -- the Talmud
I am feeling a little off today, that kind of off that usually means I've got a touch of some virus, but I'm not really sick. But I had a really hard time getting up this morning. I kept falling back to sleep until finally I started having wacky dreams about trying to wake up. One dream was that our friend Howie had somehow let himself in and was sleeping on the bedroom floor 'cuz he'd had too much to drink to get home, as if this would be perfectly acceptable.
What finally got me out of bed, though, was that I dreamt about waking up hearing what sounded like the Avett Brothers themselves singing in my house, variations on a line from one of their songs, "I'll never be the same again." It was only a dream, though. How disappointing. I've never met the Avett Brothers, but their music creates this sense of knowing them, and I am sure it would be very cool, at any rate, to have them visit. I would have cooked breakfast and everything. The kids would have flipped with joy, as they, too, are fans.
Instead I am at work, getting ready to review the health insurance rosters. Sigh. And I'm wondering what frightening subconsious reality presents itself in dreams about itinerant musicians and drunk friends.