Thoughts on worshipping idols
Talking with my dad last night...
Dad: Oh, and Barry Bonds just hit a...popup.
Me: Blah, blah, work, blah.
Dad: And the Yankees just scored two runs.
Me: Blah, blah, work, hey! The Yankees are playing the White Sox! What would Barry Bonds be doing there?
Dad: I'm not watching a game. I'm watching Sports Centre.
I'm at the mercy of phantom bells today.
A doorbell ringing in my dream woke me with a violent start at 4 AM. After trying, unsuccessfully to convince hoppie he should care, I went downstairs and look at the world to make sure no one was in the house or on the doorstep or in the driveway. Then I went back upstairs. But I was unable to sleep because I was worried someone rang the bell, got no answer, and decided the house was empty and decided to break in.
And being the moron I am, I decided the smart answer to allay my fears was to sleep on the couch where should such a thing happen, I could be totally defenceless and asleep right there in the middle of the action. I did try to explain this to myself, even at 4:30, but it didn't make a bit of difference. I would not be dissuaded. So I went downstairs and eventually got back to sleep, even as the stupid birds were waking up and chirping. Then I woke with a bang again when I heard my cellphone ring. I looked groggily at the laptop and saw it was 7 something so decided to go back to sleep. But I couldn't. So I got up and looked at my cellphone, which, of course, had not rung.
So I went back upstairs and started my morning prayer ritual. At some point I realized it was not 7somthing, it was just gone 8. (which I know meant it was 7 something before, but I thought it was 7 something early, not 7 something late, although you can make the argument that all 7 times are early times.) So I woke up hoppie.
I just saw a Monster Book of Monsters. I want it.