House of Blogs

Well, the missus has finally put her blog up: I've linked to it in the corner. I kinda liked being the only writer in the household for ten years; I don't try and run experiments and squeeze in on her big-brain scientist territory, and she shouldn't encroach upon my touchy-feely self-absorbed writer's life, right? Actually, I encourage K to write, she's got a lot of stuff to decompress, as do we all. But what if her blog is better than mine? Will I have to look into a new career?

I think I will be a judge.

After jury duty, there's nothing more appealing than sitting in a big leather chair in a soft black robe (with nothing underneath) telling everyone else what to do (but mostly saying "sustained" or "overruled" as if seemingly by random. How hard can it be to interpret the law?

I think I will spend the next few weeks dutifully watching Court TV, learning a little Latin, and constructing my cirriculum vitae. Oh, and wearing my graduation robe about the house.

I had a dream about being in a plane crash last night somewhere off the eastern coast of Florida. The plane plunged into the water, which began rushing into the cabin at a great speed. For a moment I really thought I might die. Then, I boarded an escape rocket as quickly as I could, beating out several other people, who had to wait until the next one was ready. I was uneasy in the escape rocket, wondering why we couldn't land at the nearest airport (which happened to be Disneyworld) instead of continuing our flight to Baltimore and wondering whether my friends and family thought I perished. I'm not sure what this dream signifies. I wish I had dreamt about being a judge instead.