My dreams started last night before I even got to sleep. During the twilight phase just a few minutes before I dropped off, a strange little vignette popped into my head. A guy who looked sort of like a cross between DUI-Nolte and Will Ferrell playing the cowbell guy in the classic Blue Oyster Cult skit was in a restaruant kitchen preparing a salad. Just tossing it, really. He doesn’t appear to be a chef or anything (I don’t remember what he’s wearing, but it’s not the typical white chef outfit), and it’s not clear that he’s even employed by the restaurant. He’s alone in the kitchen as far as I can tell (there’s not the clatter you’d expect), and he’s just tossing this salad. All of a sudden, he goes sort of berserk, spastically gesticulating and fluttering his hands in the salad greens and generally twitching, sending lettuce leaves flying. Then the vignette cuts over to somebody in the dining area being served what’s left of this salad and being told it’s a madman salad, which it’s clear by now, even though Nolte-Ferrell (he’s neither of these nor any combination in reality — it’s just a convenient moniker; I could just as well call him madman-salad-maker) isn’t a chef, is a pretty sought-after commodity. As whoever’s eating this salad (maybe it’s me — I’m not sure) chomps in, he finds a belt buckle among the greens. Just a simple one-prong belt buckle. At this point, I started chuckling uncontrollably (by that, I don’t mean that I was rolling around and guffawing but that I was unable to suppress my short quiet repetitive chuckles as I had hoped to, given how absurd what I was chuckling at was and that I didn’t want to have to explain why I was chuckling over something so stupid or to account for how something like this found its way into my head). And that was it. Shortly after describing this bizarre scene to M, I went to sleep.
And then I woke up at a little before 3:00 and took my shower. When I realized that it was only 3:00, I went back to bed, of course, only to be awakened several more times by the dog wanting to go outside. What’s weird about this (by itself, it’s not so weird — I’ve done this a few times before) is that just the other day, M was saying that she thought I had gotten up in the middle of the night to shower. I’m apparently pretty suggestible. I don’t recommend doing this. It’s bad for your eye-bags.