I’m going to do something that no blogger should ever do. I’m going to talk about something so personal, so esoteric, and so boring, that nobody could possibly care to hear it.
I’m going to blog about my dreams.
I can tell I’ve been thinking too much about the election, because even in my dreams I’m reading election blogs. Here’s a high-light.
“I predict that on Tuesday, November 4rd, a young rest home worker in West Virginia will intentionally provoke an all-day argument about the relative merits of Orange Pimm’s before driving his residents around the block for three hours. Months later, to their horror, he will tell them all that they accidentally voted for Obama.”
That’s of course reconstructed from hazy dream-memory, but you get the idea. (Evidently my subconscious is somewhat age-ist. And why has my subconscious turned West Virginian seniors into upper-class English people?) I also remember the dream-blogs discussing the logistics of a last-minute replacement of a VP candidate, for what it’s worth.