Friday, January 29, 2010


I can always tell when my stress level from work is getting too high, because I start having one of two dreams. In one, I dream that I'm back at my job as a grill man at McDonald's (a job I got when I was 16, and one which financed the bulk of my college expenses), and I'm the only one on the job, and buses pull in to the parking lot, and of course I can't handle the volume. In the other, I'm back at my job as a waiter for Chuck's Steak House, and the theme here is usually that the restaurant is packed, I'm the only waiter, the chef is refusing to put the meals get the idea.

Last year, I added some new variations to the portfolio, this time featuring people from work in scenarios that usually ended with huge arguments or major crises. There was no logic to any of these dreams, and the only thing they really had in common was a high level of panic.

With last night's dream, I believe I may have reached a new level of depravity/insanity/psychopathy (take your pick), because for the first time, a blogger appeared in one of my dreams. Those who are familiar with Ann Althouse know that she is probably one of the most prominent bloggers in the country, with a vast readership that makes mine look like nothing more than a blip on the radar screen. To give you an idea, I'd be willing to bet that her site has received more hits in the time that it's taken me to write this than mine gets in an entire day. Those who read her regularly know that one of the things she does best is dissect a speech, or a column, or an article that she finds fault with (the latest example coming just yesterday).

In my dream, I am attending a training being offered by the Association that I work for, which for some odd reason is being held in a bar (not a bad idea, but I doubt that we'll ever go there). A speaker is delivering a presentation, and Althouse is loudly critiquing it, in much the same fashion that she eviscerates the Glenn Greenwald column in the post linked to above. This is resulting in much laughter from the audience, and much horror from the staff. It goes on, until a gentleman in the audience rolls up a newspaper, and whacks Ms. Althouse in the back of the head. And it was about that time that I woke up, which is too bad because it would have been really interesting to see what happened after that point.

So there you have it. I can't explain it, so all I am left with is to share it.


Son #1 said...

Blip on the radar? Don't give your self so much credit. Like the stealth, this blog flies under the radar. Hell, I didn't even know you had a blog until we started making you that book.

Good try though.

Jeff said...

Hey, I have my fans, smarty-pants. Just because you don't know about them doesn't mean they don't exist!