spleen

must. get. life.

Fell asleep in front of the computer last night. Well, this morning, really. I am a major loser.

Last night (er, this morning) I dreamt someone gave me a love letter concealed in a half-deflated balloon. The balloon was bright yellow, and the letter was parchment brown. I had another dream in which I read a magazine article about the history of the United States, a history in which Ty Cobb had been president. There was another article about a lesbian photojournalist who discovered that a major terrorist organization was run by a violent woman. The journalist suspected that the terrorist was in denial about her sexuality, and determined to become her lover and thereby save the world. I'm not sure how it turned out (didn't read the article to the end, I guess), but I know the journalist ended up in D.C. — I saw a black-and-white picture of her asleep on her apartment floor, curled up among a clutter of photographs and notes. I spend all night talking with Jervais and then I dream of lesbians. Hmmm.

Which reminds me - last night I told Jervais about my new entrepreneurial scheme, something that will make us filthy rich. Homemade ice cream made from human breast milk. Breast cream™! She seemed to think I was joking, but she won't think it's so funny when I have a top-floor office and every household in America is reeling from the motherly goodness of chocolate breast cream™.