And People Say I Watch Too Much TV . . .

The good news is that I managed to make it through all of last night without any homicide-inducing dreams. Of course, this was largely because the meds I took to combat my allergies wound up making me sleep the sleep of the dead, and after I woke up, called in sick, and fell back into bed to sleep for another four hours this nice side effect had worn off, and I was dropped into a dream wherein I was a member of Veronica Mars' scoobies and we were trying to figure out the case of the smiley face plastic bag killer from last night's premiere of Pushing Daisies. Not quite as stress-inducing as most of my recent dreams -- and a bit more TV-inspired than most to boot -- so it's a step in the right direction, I suppose.