It's been a good long while since I went nearly sleepless, but last night there was no rest for the wounded. In dreams we get some murky license for whimsy and experimentation, but in waking life it's all reality, reality, reality. Without the respite of my Zzzzs, I had to rely entirely on what was visible to my eyes but nonetheless seemed like apparitions: *My cell phone displaying a photograph from the first of the year. In it, I simultaneously look deeply unglamorous and incredibly happy, proving there is an inverse relationship between makeup and joy.
*An episode of "Weeds" playing on my laptop, in which I ride a bicycle and the pink blotch of t-shirt with me in it keeps wending its way through various scenes. No one would know it's me; I am secretly haunting another narrative world.
*Vegan mochi ball ice cream. All those years of wishing they would make a non-dairy alternative produced the desired outcome, there in my hand. Don't pinch or dream me, I'm awake.
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