Getting sick is a drag. I caught a nasty cold bug recently and have been suffering badly. The actual symptoms of the cold are not so bad- I’ve had worse sniffling and coughing and congestion- but this cold has interrupted my sleep patterns so completely that sometimes I sit down and enter this dreamy state where I’m not sure if I’m really awake or if I’m dreaming. Why, just today I sat down at the computer and fell half-asleep. I dreamt that I was a writer for some weird satire website about some green town and bad movies and music CD’s. It was so bizarre. Me, release a CD of music? Sure, I’ve released CD’s of my now-legendary series of speeches to the John Birch Society but as inspiring as they are, they’re not exactly musical. My columns defending Lyndon LaRouche against the Satanic financial oligarchy that controls our planet are serious political thought, a far cry from satire, which has no value except to ignorant teenagers. And I’ve never even seen a bad movie. I only watch the best movies- The Mexican and Monkey Bone come to mind, naturally.
It was such a surreal dream, I started sweating and became quite agitated. I woke up breathing heavily at my desk a few hours later. My pet elephant Fudgie brought a plate of sugar cookies over and the Gorton’s Fisherman dropped by to see if I needed any family-size boxes of breaded perch filets, which calmed me down considerably.
I guess what I’m saying is that while there are some good parts to being sick, I wish I was sleeping a little better. This dream state makes me feel a little funky.
