If only I didn't sleep so much...

There's a reason I have so many teaching nightmares. It's the same reason I have so many very crazy dreams. I've never grown out of the need* for at least 8, and more-often-than-not 9, hours of sleep. Imagine the work I could get done if I only slept 6-7 hours a night like most tired people. I'm not complaining. I'm just sayin' that I could have my first book written, my first edited collection done, and three more articles than I have now if only my bed weren't so damn comfy.

Last night I had a dream about a friend from high school and college who was five months pregnant. Not really sure why that's significant--assuming that it is--and the other night I had a dream that my mother came to visit me here in Bloomington, and she told me she was having her foot removed. Now that one's really quite scary because she does have Type II diabetes, but, alas, she's fine. I talked to her last night. Maybe it's MY foot that's going to fall off in some freak accident.

Following the foot theme a bit more: last night in class I talked about my obsession with essay conclusions ever since I was shown in my very first Masters seminar that I had written a conclusion to a literacy narrative that completely denied the rest of the essay in favor of a tidy, big-red-bow happy ending. Lop off the conclusion. Lop off the feet? And, on today's list of errands: new sneakers for walking the girl. The very comfortable and very expensive ones I bought back in February are so worn out that my feet are practically kissing the pavement as I walk. And Belly's gonna need new booties this winter. Can't you just see me taking her to the shoe store to try on new booties?

*Please note that I assume that this is something one grows out of . Only kids need this much sleep.