O, sweet central air, won’t you be my wife. The shiny new craptastica Wal-Mart air conditioner is not cutting it, and maybe stopped altogether in the middle of the night..? If I can separate dream from reality, which I cannot? (This morning’s dream: I want a full-fledged lunch but the place I’m at only serves chips ‘n’ salsa and smoothies. I finally settle on a pumpkin smoothie when a commercial airline slams into the building. Much freaking out ensues. My father explains that it’s an unlucky time of year because of the [made-up dream word], when the moon doesn’t entirely set but nears the horizon then arcs back upward again.) Maybe because it was being rained upon and something shorted out? Something delicate and poorly manufactured by lazy barefoot pre-pubescents in Malaysia who obviously have zero pride in their work?