Irregular Times Diaries: Unfit Discussion

This morning, just before I woke up, I had a dream that I was trying to organize a bunch of my friends into a group of MoveOn activists to do volunteer telephone calls for this autumn’s congressional campaigns. A very attractive woman came to the meeting, I think that she was even some kind of movie star or other celebrity. Just then, I realized I didn’t have a shirt on. I hurried upstairs to my huge mansion with hundreds of feet of plate glass windows, and searched through huge racks of shirts for just the right one.

That’s when I felt a tickling feeling going up and down, up and down my side. I looked down, and saw a wasp walking up and down my skin, back and forth, eating the salt left by sweat on my skin.

I realized that I couldn’t put on a shirt while the wasp was there, because it would sting me. But, no matter how long I waited, it wouldn’t leave my skin. So, I finally swatted the wasp and killed it, put on the shirt, and went downstairs to the meeting.