Have you ever had a moment like this?
Say you're removing your trousers for bed, and although you checked all your pockets moments before, as you take one leg out, a coin falls from one pocket of the trousers. The coin lands on its rim and begins to roll. At the very same time, you are thinking about a serious choice you have to make very soon, and instantly, you decide that if you can catch that coin before it stops rolling, then your decision will be made for you, one way or the other.

You instantly, silently agree to these terms with yourself. So with one leg in the air, one on the ground, and an empty pants leg somewhere in between, you dive for that coin, confident in your athletic abilities, despite the truth that you've not used any athletic ability since 1999.

As you are reaching for the rolling coin, a fly decides to land on your nose, thoroughly disrupting your aim, reaching for the now tettering coin.
You wipe your face with one hand, and grab at where you last saw the coin with the other....

Neither have I.

Uuggh. Current Score: Krazy Talk from Krazy Town 35, the Local Malcontent 20. And not much time left.
Meaning, only one is gonna win, unless we allow for ties. Upset in the makin'?

Posted by Wendell L. Scotchpoodle, NOT the Local Malcontent

I slept like crap last night. Does crap sleep? I slept like something that doesn't sleep at all, last night. And lucky you, I'm going to tell ya all about it.

Slipped between the sheets at about 2:30 am on this cloudless, moonless night. The stars were very clear out the windows. Amos was happy to just sleep at the foot of the bed, on the floor, as it wasn't a frigid cold night. In fact, I had the wooden door that leads out to the deck opened up, to let in the mild, 45-degree air.

All was set; the situation was perfect; deep, restful sleep was overtaking me in no time.
Until he began barking.

Amos' first bark wasn't the threatening variety, but the second one, the one which got my sudden, 100% attention, WAS. That deep, growly 'grrrr-Barruuk'. He stood there at the screen door with his short fur standing. Looking for the threat.

Funny how, that growly bark is so recognizable from the depths of slumber. I shot up in bed, looked out to the deck, the motion detecting lights were still off... I reached over into the table for my .38, just in case.

Then I heard what made Amos bark, too. Somewhere down the hill, another dog was howling. It sounded like a painful howl, and like I said, there was no moon out last night, so I was able to dismiss both stoned hippies nearby, and a werewolf. It could have been a coyote; having identified the cause of Amos' alarm to my minimal satisfaction, I scolded my friend to keep quiet, and I lay back down.

And listened to the radio, hoping it would perform its function, and lull me back to sleep. But NO, instead it featured a news story about which I couldn't stop thinking, literally. That story was about the bad reviews a new Broadway musical had received earlier that night.

Does anyone else just hate it, like I, when a good idea just will not leave your heads, until you do something about it? Welcome to my world, last night at 3:20am. I just had to rise and post an idiot Local Malcontent blog on Young Frankenstein. The thought of how good a couple of Chocolate cookies might taste about then, didn't help matters. So I got up and rapped out a post and ate two cookies.

Back to bed, I did go to sleep. But then I had one of those dreams! A dream of such clarity and detail, that the ability "to rest" was again a defeated conclusion.
I drempt that I was drafted! Drafted in the army! And though I was drafted, I already had a bad fitting uniform, and I showed up very late at night to the draft center, the army base?, and the two guards on duty were relaxing, eating a meal, kicked back. I ran up to them, with my uniform shirt all unbuttoned, hanging out, and I smack fell down onto the long table behind which these two sat. Ka-thunk.

I stepped back to see that there was an open gap in the floor, just in front of their table, and my feet had slipped into this gap. The guards were not amused. But I was allowed in, and the next stop for me was the barber shop. I stood as the barber shaved my head while I watched in his mirror, with other draftees standing there waiting. Only the guy being shaved in the mirror was not me: This didn't seem in the least way unusual to me, the same guy on the outside of the mirror. I thought he looked like Charlie Brown, and I was more pleased, than alarmed.

Next image was the mess hall for breakfast. There was a sign at the beginning of the chow line, which said that thanks to me, two guards had quit, the night before. Breakfast that morning in my army dream consisted of toast and eggs, mixed with Miracle Grow plant food? Yeah.

And finally, thankfully, the next image of the dream was of us draftees standing at attention, in a straight line, for some kind of inspection. A sergeant or a colonel or whoever came by, looked me up and down, and asked about my uniform. I looked down at it, to see what he was asking about.

And suddenly I was wearing blue. I was in the Air Force instead!
End of adventure. Now for some sleep?

NO. To top it all off, a neighbor who is not a stoned hippie calls me at 8 am sharp, and needs some help with her furnace. She can't get it lighted. She tried different ways, all night long.

So that's who was howling.

Posted by Wendell L. Scotchpoodle, NOT the Local Malcontent