I knew I was dreaming the moment I sipped a glass of Hefeweizen and my mouth filled with smooth citrusy clovey flavor, with a hit of banana. It was delicious. I put my glass down, surprised, because I don't like Hefeweizens. This was certainly a Hefeweizen,, but I loved it.

That's how I knew I was dreaming.

There wasn't much else I remember, except sitting in a small classroom having to take a test, and one of the test questions was "Scream in terror" and another was "Start a conversation about Thor."

I did actually scream in my sleep, and woke myself up. I always did test well.


Walking every day has been going well. And my Destiny 2 character is up to a power level of 277. Not bad.

I haven't been sleeping well this week, according to my sleep tracker. Not enough deep sleep. Not enough overall sleep. Too much screaming in my sleep or talking about Thor. Ah, technology. I never would have known to worry about this stuff without it.

I'm going to see Bladerunner 2049 tonight. I hear it isn't terrible, which is good. I've already guessed the spoiler: everyone is a replicant, and they've been hunting down all humans. It's probably something like that.

Provider of constants.

Once I had an idea to rent an office building, fill it with cubicles, and call it a writing job. It would have "employees" who had a set schedule, as close to a normal work schedule as possible, and they would have to dress up like they're going to work and then sit and write. There would be two basic tasks: Writing and editing. Treat the art of creation like a job. If it helps, create some small menial meaningless work that they have to accomplish each day as well, so they can feel like the time they spend writing is "stolen". Fight the power.

Even have meetings, which would be short lectures and PowerPoints about obscure literary topics, grammar, philosophies, really specialized knowledge that might mean something to somebody in the room, even if it that person isn't you. Like normal work meetings.

Oh, and vague threats about getting your pages in.

Ha, and no internet! Not for everybody. One person will have the internet, and people will have to get up and go ask them to use it.

I'm not sure what to do about phones. They connect people too much. Writing requires the terror-sweat of isolation much of the time. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Set phones to emergency calls only, and they can use them on their breaks and their lunch.

I think I'll throw in occasional projects, like "compose a poem in iambic pentameter" or "write a short screenplay", so that everyone can get good at writing in different forms. There will be Skill Certificates of Merit once someone becomes proficient in a certain form. "Oh, you'll have to ask Jerry; he knows how to do Petrarchan sonnets."

I don't think I could pay people, not exactly, because paying people for something they're supposed to enjoy can interfere with their passion for it. I think it needs to be like Youtube, where the more work and the higher quality being produced starts to create a stream of revenue, one that can't be attributed to any one thing necessarily. Creating a mindset of a body of work, that is also banked to create a return.

That's roughly my idea. But I'm not independently wealthy so I can't do it, not yet. I may have to get creative.

Oh, refurbished Chromebook, you have been good to me. Do I love you as much as my clunky old laptop? No, but we had been through a lot together. The Chromebook has a way of keeping me on track. When I switch to this from my work computer, I'm struck by how not having all those desktop icons and folders in the background clears my mind.

The Chromebook feels like a blank sheet of paper.

Brought to you by Chromebook! Go Chrome yourself! TM

I turned off all ads on my Youtube channel. I didn't even know they were on. There were also some copyright issues because of songs playing on the radio in the background. Hilarious.

Blogger has been pushing ads for a while, too. Maybe I better check these settings to make sure there isn't some secret ad settings I need to take out.

Profit. Ha. I don't need that idea rattling around in my head.

The past couple weeks I've been listening to Daughter while I write. Two albums, "If You Leave" and "Not To Disappear". On a loop. Trying to condition myself, I suppose. They're like a darker Sigur Ros, for me. Except where Sigur Ros makes me feel like you're soaring, Daughter makes me feel like I'm running on a tight-rope stretched over a nameless abyss. Interesting feelings. Some songs I think, "Yeah, I can relate to this" while I fight a creeping doubt that I never really knew myself.

I mean, I'm 35 years old now, which is roughly half the human male lifespan. I've done all the becoming, maybe, and now it's time for the understanding part. Maybe. There may be more to me yet.

The work deciders have discouraged my use of over-the-ear headphones. My beloved Parrot Zik 2.0's now sit quietly in their case while I use earbuds. Allegedly my earbuds are more approachable, or something. As if I wanted to be approached. I listen to music because I don't want to know everyone's life. No more than I usually pick up on, anyway. People talk about dinner and pick-ups and drop-offs and weekend plans and I don't want it taking up space in my brain; this thing is pretty much full.

Also I could keep the earphones on without listening to music and it would serve at least to dull the office thrumming and hawing.

These earbuds I'm using now lack the sonic quality of the Parrots. The parrots sounds like I'm sitting in the middle of the band and they're all playing directly to me. More than once I've turned suddenly because I thought someone was speaking behind me, when it was only some surround sound magic.

Bose makes earbuds too. Might be justified. I'm fortunate to work in an environment where I can listen to music, after all, and I spend my money where I spend my time. Also on toys, although not much lately. Not since we got the house. Now I have to buy house-things.

There's also my money-saving scheme, which is the opposite of buying toys. I only have one credit card now, and it was at 15% interest. Screw that, I sez, and I take a loan out against my 401k for like 4% interest, and pay off the entire balance of the credit card. Now the credit card is still there for emergencies (and movie tickets because the app hates my debit card for some reason) and the loan payment comes out of my paycheck as a contribution to the 401k, so it's pre-tax. It should end up saving me something like 1,000 a year.

So now I'm broke, but not poor. Clawing my way towards not owing nuffing to nobody.

Except for the all the soul-debts. I haven't checked on those in a while.

Spent this morning thinking a little bit about the latest mass shooting. This one, last night in Las Vegas, was particularly lethal. We may have to create a new category for what we experience. The US could end up having over a hundred words for mass shootings, akin to the fable of the Eskimo and their many words for snow.

I'm going to see Bladerunner with Jake on Friday night. I hear it's not bad, which is good new

Beyond that, I have planned nothing. There is a wedding coming up this month, the weekend before Halloween. It is not a costumed affair, but still. I can wear a superhero undershirt and pretend I'm in my civilian disguise.

I've been musing on building a Wall-E costume. Cardboard is inexpensive, and versatile.