two lame stories for you this morning

I don't believe I was thinking about anything but sleeping before I went to bed last night, at 8, and when I woke up at 11 and thought about staying up for Conan and Duck Soup, then started reading a book and fell back asleep, that did not seem to affect things either. My dream had no Conan, no Finland, no Marx brothers, and my book was about writing and no writing took place in the dream. Dream posts are lame, so I'll try to make it one sentence:
I was hanging out with people from work/school, feeling nervous about the one who's insane and once had a murderous rage burning inside for me, but who now smiles in the halls and laughs at my jokes, when suddenly they all vanished, and I was at some concert, and it was looking lame.

Ok, I had to end that sentence. Next, last:
Then Stephen Malkmus was on, with his Jicks, and he looked so fucking bizarre, long hair, like in the bad way long hair, weird amulet necklaces, and he was doing some silly but actually really pretty much insane kind of presentation of his songs, and his audience was filled with really good-looking people, good-looking young people, who made me feel old, and I got to talking with a couple girls, who it turns out were seriously Jicks groupies, and then there was some like cover of a song played by some pop culture icon of people a few years younger than me, that the Jicks only knew of through avid irony, and all the people around me knew about it, and I felt all weird, and I had to tell them, "Actually, I much preferred Pavement," and they were all, "Haven't really gotten into them," but they were really nice and good-looking, and couldn't tell how old I really am, in my brittle soul, and somehow I didn't hate them, and then I was dating one of the girls. The end.

I thought it was weird. Maybe it's more boring than anything else, retold.


Yesterday I dropped one of the lunch room benches on my foot. At first, naturally, I assumed I had broken my foot. But then it didn't feel too bad, and then it didn't really hurt at all. Oh, I thought, I have a foot of steel! Or perhaps the bench did not mainly fall on my foot, but on the ground and my foot was incidental!
But then it started hurting again, and when I came home and looked at it, it looked bruisey. I thought of foot casts once more. But then this morning, well I will check it again now


it's not even that tender, and doesn't look bruisey! Maybe I need to walk on it for more than 2 minutes and then it will be sad again. Anyway, what a strange injury.
The end.