Green winter days

There are only small spots of snow outside, but this morning the temperature was -9 degrees (for the 6.5 billion people who use Celsius, 16 degrees above zero for the few who use Fahrenheit.)

Unfortunately, these temperatures means that my water will freeze, given half a chance, since it runs in pipes in the ground under the house with no insulation. Experience from last winter shows that it has no effect to heat the rooms above to hotter than summer temperature. The heat does not travel down into the ground, at least not enough to make a difference. The only way to keep the pipes from freezing when it gets below -4 or so, is to keep the water dripping. Because I thought of this yesterday, I still have water in the kitchen. The bathroom has only hot water, but that’s not a big deal. The shower is frozen until the weather turns warm again, whether that is next week or next year. It does not have a drip option, just on/off, so if I had kept it running there would have been no hot water in the house. I suppose I could have gotten up every couple hours and turned it on for a little while, but I don’t think that is a viable lifestyle for the duration of the winter.

I’m renting the house, so digging up the pipes to insulate them is probably not an option either. Still, for as long as I can remember to put the faucets to dripping each night, I should be fine. I grew up before the age of showers, after all.

The wind has lessened, but walking to the shop and back is still a dangerous proposal for an old man. This winter, it seems that my heart is always lurching when I am outside in freezing cold for a few minutes. By “lurching” I mean it is like it tries to change speed but gives up immediately, or something like that. It is almost certainly harmless. Heart problems seem to be so rare in my family, if I get them it is likely to be by divine intervention. Whenever I have had doctors check my heart, they tend to wish it was their own. Still, I’m opting for bus for now.

Today I took the bus to the city again and bought plenty of cheese, and some other stuff. Two bags of groceries. It won’t last long, my appetite is gearing up for the winter too. When I am cold much of the time, I tend to compensate by burning more calories, and then I compensate for that again by eating more.

Forecasts say it will get a little less cold on Monday (but still below freezing) and at that time there will be snow and strong wind. So I guess the summer is over for this time! ^_^

Re-watching “To Heart”

Screenshot from the original “To Heart” anime. The conservatively dressed redhead is our heroine, the young man is her childhood friend, and the robot-eared girl is one of the many who like him.

This anime is from 1999, and you can see that. Technology really is progressing, styles changing subtly as well. And I think it was intentionally a little “retro” even back then.

For me, it was one of the first – if not the first – romantic anime I saw that was not meant to be hysterically funny or dramatic. Even today this is fairly rare, it seems. And the anime is also very decent (but the PC game not at all so, from what I have been told). So, it is not funny, dramatic or indecent, what is it then? It is a calm slice of life story about four friends and some of the people at their school. But most of all it is the story of a girl and the childhood friend she loves. A love that is quiet, confident and accepting. She does not get upset when she sees him with other girls, although you can see a shadow of worry in her eyes sometimes. And he makes many friends, because he is the type who does something when he sees a need, instead of waiting for others to fix it. But in the end, she is the one he can always rely on, and she on him.

I really loved this story, but I usually don’t watch movies twice unless they are of a spiritual nature. I don’t think you can quite call this one that. A big part of why I remember it so well (apart from the enjoyable calm) is the ending song, which stirs my heart still. I guess I am wired for that kind of music, but it is even better with Anime-Galaxy’s original (and rather inaccurate) translation. I know I have quoted it twice in the original Chaos Node.

The first time I quoted it, I think, was May 19, 2003. I mention the anime there, briefly, and also says that I wanted it to be the end of my novel. Did not mention which novel, but my guess would be “Lost in Magic”, the one about the boy who is accidentally summoned to a magic fantasy world and wants to save it, but there is nothing to save it from.

A few days later, I mention it again, in connection with my Dark Age of Camelot character, but both of them in context of my drifting apart from my best friends through many years, the amazing Supergirl (later Superwoman, by her own request, but the truth is that to me she was always a girl, and that was probably one of the big differences between us.) Actually, the complete calm and rare trust that I felt in that friendship reminded me a lot of this anime, or rather the anime reminded me of real life.

Then on December 20 the same year, when I made the irrevocable decision to stop visiting. I said I had reserved this song for that occasion, and that is true. It reads as if written for just such a day.

The last entry was September 1, 2006. That’s when I retired my Dark Age of Camelot account and my favorite character, Itlandsen the overly defensive paladin. Over the last couple years at least, I occasionally have glimpses of DAoC, just a fraction of a second usually, where I suddenly am in the game, at some random place (usually in Hibernia) and then the vision ends and I am back in real life. It is kind of disconcerting. But reading that entry again, I feel the sense of closure that radiates from it. I think the game still exists though. It was pretty good. Then again, I think my best friend still exists somewhere. She was pretty good too. (And I mean that in the most innocent way imaginable.)

Reality may be especially hard to face
after spending those innocent moments together.
I remember my heart was pounding
when we played carelessly,
but we can’t go back to that place now.
It may seem cruel to use the same song for memories of my best friend and a roleplaying game. But to me the world she and her family lived in was always a roleplaying game, in which I descended, temporarily becoming a normal human, to spend time with them in a shared fantasy world. It was a great and enjoyable time, pretending that their little world was real. But I live in a far greater world, which I fear is beyond their imagination. And surrounding my world are even greater worlds, in which the world where I live is like a bubble. This is the nature of the universe. It has not only quantities but also qualities, and we can hold only so much, each of us. The limit of the world is set by the limit of each mind. What you perceive to be the limit is not the limit of the universe, but of your mind. In the timeless words of Solar: “We fail to imagine and are punished with reality.” (Namely with a smaller, more meager reality that we think is it all.)

Let’s try a translation closer to the Japanese original, I think. May still be a bit off, by all means.

Having passed through innocent times,
real life has lately hurt a little bit.
For no reason there was enjoyment
and a rapidly beating heart
but there is no returning to that.
Let us start walking away,
holding on to a shining treasure,
for sure,
with the same warmth of heart
I’ll put everything away
and do my best.

You know, that sounds a bit “raw”. Even back in 2003, it did not hurt enough to make a black entry. And walking away from that place has led me to something wonderful. But I do not want to edit the past. I don’t need to make it better or worse than it was. I want to keep that same warmth in my heart, always.

Thank you.

Winter walk

It was only about one degree below freezing when I set out for the grocery shop this afternoon, a fairly reasonable temperature as I saw it. But I had not gone far before the howling wind from the north convinced me that thermometers are not telling the whole truth. Still, I felt fine, so I continued walking the half-hour road to the shop, even though there was nothing I urgently needed. I just wanted some yogurt and such, I had eaten the last of my yogurt during the weekend.

After about 20 minutes, I started to realize that I had underestimated the power of wind chill. But by then I was most of the way there, so I kept walking. By the time I arrived, I could only apologize silently for being an idiot.  I felt strangely weak, and was still cold after walking for half an hour, something that is rare. Walking briskly produces a good deal of heat.

The walk home was easier, as I had the wind at my back, but it was still chilly and I felt stiff and strangely weak, as if the northern wind somehow leeched my strength. That seems an unreasonable allegation, but a little while after I came home I sat down on the exercise bike, just sitting there for a while without pedaling, and my pulse was quite a bit higher than usual. Like 30 beats or more above normal.

When your pulse remains higher than usual for a while after training, it is because of what I call “body alchemy”, the changing of stuff into other stuff. Your muscles and liver rebuild their stock of glycogen, a molecule that very easily dissolves back into glucose. Glucose is used in the beginning of any physical activity, as it gives a quick clean energy and can even be used without extra oxygen for a little while.  When the body rebuilds this, the opposite happens:  You burn more fat while the sugar in your blood is used to build up these sugar spirals for next time. Burning fat is a much more complex task and requires plenty of oxygen, so your lungs and heart work a little more than usual.

So anyway, I have known for years that old people can get heart problems in the winter and die. That’s quite common actually. So I have a problem with the global warming journalists who count all the people who die during heat waves, but forget all the people who would have died if not for the mild winters. We are a tropical species after all.  But I used to assume these folks all died while shoveling snow. It certainly is hard work! But I wonder if even that is necessary.  My heart was definitely working harder than during a walk in summer or spring or fall.  I did not wear a pulse watch (it is out of batteries, which may well have been a good thing) but my pulse was quite high for a while. I could feel that.

So, a bit of a learning experience there. Now having eaten a pasta meal, I will definitely restore all my lost glycogen – and probably a little extra for just in case I do such a dumb thing again in the near future.  After all, doing dumb things is a habit with us humans.

Weird dreams

This morning was weird dream season again.

First, we had a young woman who could transform into a frog. This turned out to be less useful for spying than we thought, since a) frogs move pretty slowly, b) dogs among other creatures like to attack frogs, causing her to panic and turn back to human, and c) her clothes did not change with her. We decided that a porcupine would be better for the task.

Next dream, I was young and going out with a Japanese girl. On the plus side, she spoke English about as well as I do (haltingly and with some mispronunciations, but perfectly understandable). On the minus side, whenever she did something unfamiliar, I had no idea whether it was a Japanese thing or some quirk of her own. The other young people thought she was weird too.

In the next part, I had come into discussion with a transfer student about something in Bergen. (Everyone in all of these dreams were people I don’t know in real life, including quite possibly me.) At this point my Japanese girlfriend and I both had magic. Her magic was weaker but she had good control, so she made a teleportation membrane between there and Bergen. By passing through the dark blue membrane you would fade out here and fade in there. I had more raw power but not so good control, and there might be a limit to how many times I could do magic, or it might be dangerous to me, I am not sure, but she did not want me to do it. In the end I did anyway, and opened a giant portal between here and there, where the two places were basically bordering on each other so you could look into it and step from one place to another like you walk across a line on the ground. It was so big you could move a platoon through it and was surrounded by a brilliant white light. When we stepped through, we saw that someone had set fire to the grass.

At that point I woke up, probably because I had been worried about going to bed while my wood stove was still burning so hot, but since I kept falling asleep in my living room chair I did it anyway.

I don’t really see these dreams having any deep message for my life, except to be grateful that I don’t date Japanese girls or work with people who turn into frogs.

It’s been so long

I embrace space-age technology!

I had not left Holum since I came home on the last Friday in October. When I wanted more groceries (mostly yogurt and some Pepsi Raw) I walked to the shop across the bridge, some half an hour’s walk from home. Yesterday I tried to do that too, but it was below freezing and a strong wind, and after about 20 minutes my heart began to lurch so I turned around and walked home. It is not usually a big deal, but I usually sleep during the day and write in the night now (following American time while living in Norway) so I had gone a long time without sleeping. Not the best time to test my blizzard resistance, I cautiously concluded.

So today I went to Kristiansand again. That’s the city (by Norwegian standards at least) where I work. I had planned to not do that until the very end of the month. My bus card expired near the beginning of the month, so I could have saved about $200 by staying home all month. It is not like I have much to do in the city, since I can’t go to work during my vacation. Norway has enforced 5 weeks of vacation, so I have to take a month off whether I want to or not. I use that time for NaNoWriMo, since that would distract me from my work (and the other way around) anyway.

Taking the bus to the city felt pleasantly familiar. It is a great time for reading as well as checking everyone’s FaceBook.

In the city I went to the local phone shop and looked at various android phones. My HTC Hero is still working fine, except that it no longer plays the songs from my Opera Unite server in the Flash applet. I have to download them and play them in some other music player, which is inconvenient. So I asked them if the newest HTC they had could do that. (It is called HTC Desire HD and looks to be a great device, but I hate the name with a vengeance. Can you imagine Jesus or the Buddha lugging around a device named “desire”? What’s next, “HTC Rumors” or perhaps “HTC Homesickness”?) Anyway, the shop did not know and the importer did not know (we talked with them on the phone). They recommended trying a third-party Flash.

I also looked at the Galaxy Tab, a thing with a size in between a mobile phone and an iPad. It is nifty, but does not fit into a shirt pocket and probably not all jackets either. And it is badly overpriced right now. In the end, I did not buy anything, as expected.

Afterwards I went to the library. I don’t remember when I was there last time. I am quite sure I have not actually borrowed books there this century, but I do have a library card from 1993 so I did use it as late as that. Of course they don’t use that kind of cards anymore, it was not even magnetic, much less a smart card like people use today. I think I have stopped by a few times later without borrowing anything, but I am not sure how long ago even that was. Years for sure.

They sure have a lot of books. I read a little in some Norse mythology. Perhaps I am going to continue my “Shadow of Yggdrasil” novel at some point, but currently I enjoy writing my Rebirth of Buddha fanfic, with happy sect members doing happy things. Love, self-reflection, cute girls, wisdom, Buddha and eternal progress. Come the way you are and become like us!

Anyway, there sure were a lot of books, and it made me think. If the change of technology had slowed down instead of just speeding up more and more… if everyday technology today was roughly similar to 20 years ago, I would probably have spent a good deal of my free time in that library. When I was unemployed for 13 months back in the 1980es after the collapse of the yuppie boom, I spent much of the time in the library, and I believe I have benefited greatly from it. (I made my way through several of C.G. Jung’s books, including his autobiography which made an indelible mark on me, because it was frankly the first time I read about someone similar to myself, in their own words more or less.)

But of course the world did not stop or even slow down in 1990. And for the most part I embrace new technology heartily. For instance, today I embraced a new frying pan. (I eventually destroyed the old one by overheating it while playing a game. The voice in my heart alarmed me before it could actually catch fire, but the non-stick cover was ruined and it became very sticky and started burning my food.)

The new one is still space age tech, with Teflon coating. If I don’t overheat it, it may last until they invent nanotech frying pans. I am not sure what they will do that this one doesn’t, but I am fairly sure they will appear eventually.

A mistake

Resisting the temptation to eat fat is a lot easier if you have to go through the outskirts of purgatory each time you do it.  That has been the case with me since Easter 2005. But human nature is not that easily erased…

To err is human. But this error is likely to cost me, unless there is a divine intervention or some such.

It is a fairly long time since I have had a bad attack of fat poisoning. And so, distracted by an online game, I grabbed a serving of ice cream and ate it relatively short time after I had eaten noodles.  (Both of them typical gaming food, since they require little preparation.)

Now, either of these meals alone should not contain enough fat to trigger a poisoning. Together?  As I said, without divine intervention I am going to be horrifyingly sick. I did not die in the first weeks after I got this illness and before I found out what triggered it, so I don’t expect this to kill me either. But it will most likely feel like it.

The fat poisoning is a mysterious illness. I have had the same set of symptoms occasionally through my adult life, increasing in frequency, but it only became a regular feature after the horror Easter of 2005, when some kind of virus seems to have hit my liver. The doctor thought it was a virus at least, and the involvement of the liver we deduced from the utter lack of bile for more than a week.  After this, even normal amounts of fat will trigger an attack.

The only thing I know of that can reduce the severity of the attack is heat. It seems to begin with my body temperature falling, for some unknown reason, below a point where my brain thermostat realizes that I am in trouble, and it sets off a panic sequence.  I start feeling cold as if I were out in a snowstorm, and shiver and shake violently.  My muscles are at this point already so tense that I cannot heat myself by working out, only by the uncontrolled shivering. Worse than my skeletal musculature is that my internal muscles also go into overdrive. Queasiness ensues as my stomach starts contracting. The peristaltic motion of the intestines is replaced by spasms. These may cause extremely strong bowel movements, or conversely send material from the lower intestines upward, messing up the gut flora for days to come.

The most inexplicable effects are on the brain, or mind. Panic usually ensues (although a few times I have been spared this). It is a physical fear, an automatic reaction that is hard to contain. I suppose it is not entirely irrational when you get a sudden illness, but even though I have been through it many times, I just can’t squash it, just barely contain it. Part of the problem is that my IQ seems to be about halved. I am not sure what the cause of that is, but it happens toward the end of the attack. I am unable to concentrate, if I write I cannot spell normally or write coherently for more than a few words. Basically I go from genius to mentally challenged. The final step of the attack is a sleepiness that cannot be resisted. Even if I sit in a chair, I will fall into deep dreamless sleep. So far I have woke up every time and the attack was over.  I can only hope that I will wake up this time too.

If I knew when it came, I would try to warm up and exercise before it starts, thereby raising my core temperature.  But it depends on the speed of my digestion, probably, for it can be anything from one day to a bit over two days.  I cannot exercise for 24 hours. So that escape hatch is closed. And in the winter, even supplying enough external heat to mitigate the attack will be hard.

So, divine intervention remains an option. A prayer would be nice. I can’t think of anything else that will save me from at least a taste of purgatory.

NaNoWriMo week 1

That’s the face NaNoWriMo participants have when they catch up with their word count.

So I have not written here for a couple days. I have still not given up the “novel writing month” thing, although I have considered it. There are days that are more and days that are less productive, due sometimes to inspiration and sometimes to limitations of the body. As usual, I over-used my voice (with Dragon NaturallySpeaking dictation software) and had to shut up for a bit. And as usual, I over-used my wrist.

I am approximately on track with my first novel (Shadow of Yggdrasil). The other three are lagging, though.  I guess my strategy works in the sense that I have kept writing something each day, sometimes more and sometimes less. And at the moment it seems to be paying off, in that I have returned to my main novel with new ideas.

The structure of the novel is kind of fractal, as usual for such beasts. There is the book, there are chapters, and there are scenes. Kind of like a tree with branches and twigs?  Now the problem is that I only know the general shape of the tree and a very few of the branches, and the twigs on the first branch, when I start.

So what happens is that I return and there is a new branch, or new twigs. As if they have grown out by themselves in the meantime. But pulling on a branch does not cause more twigs. My writing is more like gardening than anything else I can think of. It requires time, but if I have the time, I can plant a bunch of little plants and they all grow up over time, given enough attention.

Your writing may vary, so be yourself!

Best before January 2008

My adventures in dried foods continue. Today I went through my cupboard and found some powder that was supposed to expand into “tomato sausage pot”. The sausage was not mandatory, you could also make a vegetarian version, so of course I did that.

The first thing I noticed when I loaded the dish onto my plate, was the disgusting gray brown color. Now, I don’t want to be judged by my color, so I decided to also give the dish the benefit of doubt. Perhaps it’s just didn’t use artificial colors?

Unfortunately, it did not really taste like human food, or at least not completely. I’m not sure exactly what it tasted like, but I gave up after a few forkfuls. I am sure many starving children in Africa would have appreciated this food, and I like to think that they would also survive it. Especially since I like to think that I will survive it myself. But I quickly concluded that it would be safer to stop, just in case. So I threw away the rest.

I was about to write a warning against the product on my Norwegian-language blog (since this is a product sold exclusively in Norway, as far as I know). But before I came that far, the ever helpful voices in my head (still not literal voices, but “the thoughts in my head” makes it sound like it was my thoughts) told me to go check the packaging. And sure enough: “Best before January 2008”.

The list of contents shows mainly dried vegetable matter, so I am not sure exactly what kind of processes have been at work in the intervening years to transform it into the sludge I found on my plate. But I guess I’m not going to cook any of the stuff I bought before 2005…

“Novel” writing, eh?

Falling asleep at your desk is perfectly normal while writing a novel. Or so I am led to believe. So imagine writing two!

It is National Novel Writing Month again! And like in so many households around the world (so much for the “national” part), NaNo eve and NaNo day are public holidays. The last hours before midnight are traditionally spent on the NaNoWriMo forums, which slow to a crawl and eventually crash each year.  There is no point in dimensioning the servers for this spike, things calm down after a few days. In the meantime, you can access the forums off the peak hours.  Not hard to do if you live in Norway, of course.  Although peak hours are a bit different when you are a writer, I think. They last till about dawn for some…  (When sanity leaves, creativity comes!)

The first night and the first day are when you pour out on paper (or screen, in most cases) the words that have been dammed up for days, weeks or months as you looked forward to finally bringing your Great Novel (or funny fantasy) into the world.  Of course, the most intrepid (or still reasonably sane) writers have already committed the plot to some kind of external medium in the form of index card (or screen pictures of index cards), charts or “mind maps“. They may also have a character database, so that she does not gaze into his deep brown eyes that were a clear blue, like the summer sky, 14 pages ago. (Although in this age of colored contact lenses, that may be less important and might even add to the plot.) But many of us still have a buffer in our head with a chapter or so of text ready to write.

By the end of Day 1 that buffer is empty. Depending on who you are, the ideas may be gone too. It seemed like there would be enough material for a novel, but actually there was only the first and last chapter and a couple vague ideas glimmering like fireflies in between. Oops.

Yeah, that’s the case for me this year again.  So far I have: Dramatic beginning, dramatic arrival in a strange land, “and then a lot happened”, dramatic declaration of love, “and then a lot happened”, and still working on the dramatic ending.  That does not look a lot like a novel at this point.  I suppose I can still get my 50 000 words by having the main characters discuss their hobbies (which strangely enough would coincide with mine) in painstaking detail, as happened in “The Boy, the Girl and the Werecat”.  But I am planning to take another route this year.

I am starting a second novel. Because, you know, nothing succeeds like fiasco!

Taking a walk is how I get my inspiration. So while walking to the shop and back, about half an hour each way, I got a lot of ideas and completely refilled my brain text buffer. Unfortunately the text had nothing to do with my current novel, but was a reboot of another idea I have had for a long time. In fact, it was a small but important part of DarkEyes, one of my earliest NaNovels. The main character, in times of extreme danger, can escape by sliding to a parallel world. However, he has no control of where. It is similar to his own, but subtly different.

I am sure most of you have had “slider moments” as I call them. (In fact, I called them that before the Sliders TV series. That’s the kind of guy I am. People pick up my ideas and make books, movies and what not from them even if I don’t mention them to a soul. Oh well.

By “slider moments” I mean those moments where you have the distinct impression that you have come to a parallel world where things are almost the same but some significant aspect has changed.  I had that feeling a lot during the Glasnost period.  (Look it up if you are too young to remember it.) The Berlin Wall falling? Not in my world, surely!  Less global examples are where your friend is suddenly going out with that boy she wanted to drop off a cliff and disappear. Slider moments. Dude, where is my planet?

So anyway, this is a comedy mostly.  That is what I write naturally. I may not look like it now, but I used to be quite funny when I was younger. My planned novel for this month is not funny, it is all drama and a little romance and some deep thoughts at the end.  So when I am not in the mood to write that, I write the other.

I am certainly not the first writer to do this. I remember Piers Anthony, the prolific if occasionally indecent fantasy writer, describing his mode of work in his author notes at the end of each novel. You may say a lot about him, and people do, but he did share his technique even though nobody forced him to. And he was a prolific writer indeed. Perhaps he still is, I have moved on from that scene. Anyway, “the best techniques are passed on by the survivors”, and he was definitely one.

At first, when Piers was writing a novel and got an urgent idea for another, he would enclose the alien text in brackets [like this]. Later he would use the word processor’s search function to extract the nuggets, but when writing, the thing that mattered was to keep writing. No matter which book it was for.  After all, that is a writer’s first commandment: Write!

So I may come up with more stories as the days come, if come they do, and then we’ll see what the outcome is.  Perhaps I will have 20 short stories, in which case I may sit down the last day and write a novel about someone who reads 20 short stories. ^_^ Or perhaps I will write hundreds of thousands of words.  Light alone knows, although I have a suspicion.

But now, I have written a thousand words (not counting the picture, which makes it 2000) that are not part of any of my novels.  But perhaps it was “novel” (new) to you?

More dreams

I dreamed a lot this morning, even though I did not sleep that long, and woke up tired. As a compensation I am going to grab the dreams, or what is still left of them.

In the first dream, we were at a work conference, like I was in real life two weeks ago now. But in my dream, staying overnight was optional. In the end I stayed there (bus connections to Møll are terrible). I slept in the room of a female coworker, either that or we just pretended that I did – I don’t remember that part. My boss was scandalized, thinking that we must have had sex. I found that amusing, and so presumably did my female friend, since she went along with the joke.

Much of the second dream is lost. I mostly remember dreaming that one of my brothers was recently divorced, and we talked about this in some detail. He seemed resigned to it already. I hope and pray that it be just a dream. In this age, divorce is so common as to be almost a social custom, and there is little a man can do to prevent it. Now that the great religions of the world have been perverted into lawlessness, there is nothing holding people back from “trading up” spouses much like you get a new house. It is certainly common here in Scandinavia, and it is usually the woman who does it, just like in my dream. Another reason why this is a good age to be single, for those who can.

On two vaguely related notes, the last dream took place in an alternate world where demon-humans lived as a minority among other humans. In the night they were strong and dangerous, and the real humans stayed indoors behind magical protections. But in daylight, the demons were weak and were ill-treated whenever they showed their face. They looked like very ugly humans, deformed and with discolored skin. They did threaten us, however: They were looking forward to a time soon to come, where “that which held back” would be removed, the Dark One would be free, and they would all become as strong as their king in Jerusalem. Then our feeble protections would not keep them from feeding on us at will.

To forestall the end of the human world, some of my friends were active in conservative political activism, for lack of a better word. It was taken for granted – at least by the conservatives – that giving power to liberals was to hasten the rule of the demons. (I am sure many conservatives agree to this even in real life!) I would on occasion help my good friend at the office of the conservatives. The dream ended during just such an occasion. I was affixing labels to envelopes. A teenage girl was hovering around me, trying desperately to be of help even though I did not need it. When someone commented on it, she became rather red. The glue on the labels was of bad quality and they would not stay on. I mentioned I should go home and get my glue stick (these things really existed in the age before electronic communication. In real life I found a dried husk of a glue stick in my office supplies some weeks ago.) My friend told me that the economy of the organization was so bad, they could not afford to pay me for the time it took for me to drive home and fetch it. I switched to English (in order for fewer people to hear it) and told him that I had never taken a cent for my work there – it was all volunteering on my behalf and always would be. This amazed those who understood what I saw.  Conservatives doing something for free seems to have been more alien in their world than in mine.  I hope.

And with that, I woke up.  Now, work.