Comments: Insomnia

I have a bid of sixty-eight. Do I hear seventy? *holds up tack*

Psst, eight more days, yall.

Posted by David at April 5, 2005 1:33 PM

No answers from me, I don't put stock in dream interpretation. Mostly I think if it as the brain sorting mental chaff. Still, it's quite something to have such a lucid dream, isn't it? So nice that Maisy wakes up so happy.

Posted by Karin at April 5, 2005 4:38 PM

I've been lurking on your blog for about a month now, and I have to speak up. That story made me laugh out loud in my office hysterically. The secretaries are staring... Good luck next week!!! I'm rooting for you way out here in Arizona.

Posted by Alicia at April 6, 2005 1:36 PM

LOL!

Posted by Heather at April 6, 2005 5:13 PM

I got this from some site or another~

Tack
If you dreamed of hammering tacks, you are likely to have to help a friend over a rough patch; pulling out tacks in a dream is a warning against hasty speech which could cause a regrettable rift--guard your tongue. Driving a tack with a shoe predicts a new romantic interest.

Posted by Martha O'Connor at April 6, 2005 6:04 PM

ONE WEEK ONE WEEK ONE TINY LITTLE WEEK EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

I'm not excited. Really.

Posted by Amy at April 6, 2005 7:55 PM

So what does Scott - who is being very quiet over there - think it means, hmm? Or is he pleading the fifth, as in the dream?

Oh, and the book? THE book? It's on its way at last! *smiles*

Posted by David at April 6, 2005 8:33 PM

Martha brings some interesting tidbits to light, but it neglects to cover one's spouse PLACING a tack in his PANTS. Which OBVIOUSLY covers the incredulity out dear climbing-mental-illness-number Joss feels about Scott CHOOSING to live his life with her. There he was, in the shirt SHE PURCHASED FOR HIM, cool as a cucumber, declaring her to be the tack in his pants that he would accept.

Moral of the story: insomnia sucks, but even as the mental illness number climbs, Mr. Husband will be your rock. ;)

Posted by Mir at April 6, 2005 10:22 PM

P.S. That'll be $7.50, please, or you can just squeal when I show up in Vermont. Thanks.

Posted by Mir at April 6, 2005 10:23 PM

A tack strikes me as a hard, rather pointy thing that gets pressed into holes. And it was in his pants! The Freudian connotations can't be denied. :)

Posted by E, at April 7, 2005 8:29 AM