A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away in the key of A minor

I love my brain. It keeps me entertained through the wee hours of the morning better than any infomercial for the Magic Bullet ever could. What I mean by that is that I have the coolest dreams of anyone I know.

Now don't worry, I am not going to bore you with the excruciating details of my dreams. We have a rule in our house about dreams (which Fred always breaks); no trying to describe them. Because listening to someone recount their dream to you is like hearing someone drone on about their evening of drunkenness; it never makes any sense and is way more interesting to the one telling the tale than the one having to hear it.

But this was seriously cool... my dream last night was Star Wars, the Musical. I am completely serious. There was a Storm Trooper dance number and even a mournful solo by Darth Vader that truly exposed his tragic inner conflict. That's right, my dreams all have their own original musical score. Eat your heart out Andrew Lloyd Webber.

For some reason I was the director of this spectacle, which is weird. I know I'm bossy, but I abhor being in charge of very large groups of people. I think I should have been Chewbacca... we totally have the same vocal range.

Now you know why I'm crabby all the time

Sleep, slumber, 40 winks, visiting the Land of Nod; whatever you call it, I need it. I'm an 8-hour a night kind of girl. Oh, I'm not saying I get 8 hours... rather, that's the minimum requirement if I hope to even remotely resemble a human being the next day and not some quivering mass of cranky, useless goo.

But staying up too late, having troubles falling and staying asleep, and having a child that requires nighttime intervention a few nights a week have hugely diminished my sleeping abilities.

That is why when Elise's piercing shrieks awoke me at 5:45 this morning (totally not her fault, the poor girl is teething... at almost 19 months, she still has only 4 teeth and I think the rest of them are erupting simultaneously), I was utterly dismayed to remember that I had been dreaming about grocery shopping before I woke up.

Seriously, subconscious? Even when I'm asleep, I still have to do drudge work? It's supposed to be a time for rest! There was one interesting part where I was talking about the band KLF to another shopper, mentioning that they had done a duet with Tammy Wynette. Why my brain decided to dig up this nugget of information, I'll never know.

I woke up as I was meandering towards the bread section with a coupon in hand. Hah... I'm cheap even in my dreams.

Hopefully tonight I won't be dreaming of doing something like scrubbing the toilets, folding laundry or vacuuming; I work hard enough during the day to avoid those tasks, I shouldn't have to do it at night too.