When I woke up this morning, I immediately felt ashamed. The source was not an unfortunate episode of nocturnal enuresis, nor was it the presence of some anonymous bedfellow sirened to my side by the previous evening�s last call. Indeed, I had not even been witness to any such call since I had turned in early and responsibly. The reason for my shame, dear friends, was my first thought of the day. I woke feeling as if at some point during the night, I had decided to wake up, go out and get involved in a car accident, and gone back to bed. My neck felt like I had sustained serious whiplash , my head pounded, fatigue reigned supreme. The strange dream I�d had flickered in my peripheral consciousness and my first thought was: If you dream that you are getting drunk, is it possible to feel hung-over when you wake up? Instantly, I felt really, really stupid. What a stupid, stupid thought, is what I thought. Thank goodness I was alone and was thus not tempted to verbalize my stupidity. Yet, here I confess all.

Upon further reflection, I decided to place it midway on the continuum between earnest-yet-annoying things people might say and just plain old stupid. There it sits, flanked by rambling explanations provided by drunk people at the end of boring parties that prove why they believe ghosts really do exist, and the special brand of idiocy I like to call bumper sticker wit (e.g. You nonconformists are all alike.) Yah! Why me? I think I have a fever today.