|
|
|
2001-03-10 - 02:45:56 today when i met with dr. lambtree, he asked me how my diary was coming along. i said, "fine." i don't like to give too many details. he asked me what i wrote about, and i said, "oh, nothing. you know, the usual. weather, cows, gelatin, how i'm going to kill you in your sleep, muffins..." about that time his eyes got real wide and i started to laugh. "oh, dr. lambtree," i said, "do not worry, for i am only joking." and indeed, i was. only a fool would write about cows and muffins in his diary. anyhoo, dr. lambtree seemed to relax then, and he asked me if i have been sleeping well. i told him i have, except for that pesky recurring dream i keep having, in which i find myself being chased down a long white corridor by an incredibly malcontent col. sanders who, arm raised above head with an intimidating drumstick clutched in his fist, is screaming and groaning betwixt gnashing teeth and swollen tongue, "eextraa criiiiispeeeee! eeeeeextraaaa criiiiiiiiiispeeeeeeeeeee!!" i must say, altogether, it isn't all that unpleasant of a dream. ...at least there are no sporks in it.
|