Punk

I must heartiliy apologize to anyone reading this for the fact that I haven't written anything for a while. I'm feeling so very punk that I'm learning a new meaning of punk. I've been like this for a week and the upcoming week doesn't promise to be any better.

As is often the case, Fredrik is feeling the same way. Misery loves company, and we do an increasingly better job of being sick at the same time. What's more, it has rained here every day for the last two weeks, and that shows no signs of stopping, either. My normal strategy of trying to get a little bit of exercise when I'm sick so that it doesn't become a vicious cycle has been completely thwarted by the constant cats-and-dogs, and the vicious cycle is officially here. I am alternating between the bed and the couch.

But what I can't complain about is the vivid dreams I've been having lately. Last night there was one that somehow involved me both living and working in a huge shopping-mall-type complex that also seemed to be the last stop on some sort of subway/monorail system. On the day played out in the dream, the train driver overshot the end of the track three times, the last time completely demolishing some sort of Mrs. Field's-type cookie shop. I had some very cross words with the train driver, telling him that it wasn't going to look good at his upcoming performance review and that Martinis before lunch weren't a good idea.

In fact, the whole layout of the mall/office in my dream looked an awful lot like the Mall of America, where there was, if my memory served me correctly, a cookie shop across from the Orange Julius in the bit of 2nd floor East Broadway that overlooked the amusement park. I had to surf to their website to confirm that my memory served me correctly. It did. (The cookie shop is called the Nestlé Toll House Café.) Are we frightened that I remember exact locations of shops that I never even patronized in the largest mall in the U.S.? No, we're not, because everyone needs a talent.

I noticed on their website that the amusement park, which was originally called Camp Snoopy, is now called Nickelodeon Universe, and it's a foamy Spongebob Squarepants instead of a foamy Charlie Brown running rampant inside. Not that Charlie Brown probably ever "runs rampant," perhaps that was the reason they ditched that particular hometown hero. Peanuts: just not ADD enough for modern America.