Dream Obama

I dreamed I was running a 5k (or something; that part is not clear), and fell and skinned my knee--and an onlooker with an entourage of men in dark suits came to help me!  And it was Obama--and the suits were the Secret Service!

As he was applying bactine to my knee, I said, "I really have to thank you. I no longer wake up every morning with a feeling of dread about the leadership of my country."

And he leaned back on his heels and regarded me.  "That's it? That's all? That's a bit apathetic.  I'm glad you don't have dread. But what are you doing to help?"

And I woke up, thoroughly chastised by dream!Obama.

Hilariously, when I told everyone at work about this dream, they all felt chastised by dream!Obama as well.

My subconscious is a treacherous place, and one cannot be smug there.  Or near it.

I'm gonna need to bust out the whole bag of tricks

How could I forget about lying to myself as a mode to get work done?? How??? It's so useful!

Today I sat down at 8PM, and set my timer for 15 minutes. I said, "Self, you only have to do this for 15 minutes. Then you can stop."

When the timer went off 15 minutes later, I turned it off. Two hours later, I hugged my stepdaughter goodnight. At some point, I did let a cat into the room to sleep under the halogen light. In between, I wrote.

At 10:30, I had almost 3000 words done, and blasted through a really hard chapter. The climax of the book is at hand, and the end is fast a-coming. (Again. This is the book that I got to 82,664 words, stopped, went back to about 60,000 words, and plunged forward again, plus reorganized the first four chapters. Today I'm at 83,484. Not only has the retrograde planet gone direct, it's past the point it went retrograde.)

Win.