In Which We Dip Our Toes Into the Depths of Auntie Suzanne's Psyche and Draw Back Quickly

The other night I dreamed I found or was given a piece of paper that had a design of letters with spaces written on it and if you folded the paper at the several spaces--kind of like the old MAD magazine puzzles--it would spell a word. It spelled meshuggeneh. When I woke up and remembered this, I had some vague idea that meshuggeneh meant crazy, but I hadn't heard the word in over twenty years and hadn known for sure what it meant then. So I looked it up. And discovered that it means specfically crazy woman. From this, I conclude that my subconscious knows Yiddish and uses it to insult me.

And that was even before I got to the part of that night's dreams where I decided to get into the room-sized hot tub--actually more of a warm tub--and "they" turned off the bubbles, so I decided to crawl over the threshold into the gymnasium-sized pool and they turned out the lights, to indicate they were closing. Ai yi yi, what a mind.

It's like the mule Faulkner talked about, who would faithfully serve a man for ten years, just for the sake of kicking him once. Except without the ten years of faithful service, especially nowadays; on that front it's more like a dog I knew who went for walkies with a great deal of enthusiasm, but if she got a little tired would flop down wherever she was for resties. Nowadays my mind is all kickies and resties and shoddy service, but I guess it can get away with it, being the only game in town (body?)