Do you ever have the dream where your cat is crapping Cheetos?

I have often heard that when a product is mentioned on a television talk show, the show receives a gift from the company. Why am I not getting Cheetos for mentioning them on my blog? And why would I want them now that I associate them with my cat's posterior?

Anyway, a curious part of my mental makeup, and maybe your as well, I don't know, is the after-drinking dream. If I have gone out the night before (like I did to Skeptics in the Pub last night), the next day, if I take a nap, I have wildly vivid dreams. I spent a good part of this morning really concerned that my cat was crapping Cheetos.

I remember once (or twice) during my freshman year at Notre Dame, I was really hungover while studying, and I drifted off in the study lounge. I was going back and forth between two equally convincing realities as I went between sleep and wakefulness.

Today was a low-key sort of day, Cheeto-crapping kitties notwithstanding. Copied notes from a meeting I had yesterday, during which I and a colleague penned some pretty innovating pedagogy, if I say so myself. Then we ran away because we heard thunder and neither of us has a car.

HJ