Last Friday this guy at work, who meant no harm at all, stood behind me hacking and coughing while I worked.

He ended up taking the last part of Friday off. I ended up taking all of today off.

I'd say that makes me the winner.

Spent the entire day sleeping on the couch, with all three cats holding a death vigil around me. My dreams were fever-borne and interesting.

The best one involved a classic science fiction theme - time travel. In this particular dream, I was transported back to 1972 where I found myself inhabiting my own 7 year old body.

What I found myself trying to do, without being thrown into the looney bin, was convince my dad of what had happened. Convince him that the pure and innocent son he'd known up until that day had been replaced by a soul much older and more experienced than he was at the time. Shit, Dad was only 31 in 1972.

I didn't have much luck. I repeatedly asked my dad for ideas on how I could prove myself to him. He was an avid reader, so he was at least a little open to the idea, but all he could think of was having me tell him about something that would happen in the future.

I just couldn't think of anything that would be happening soon enough to keep me out of a straight jacket. I knew that Nixon would resign in a couple more years, and I knew that the Reds would win back-to-back World Series championships in '75 and '76, but I needed something sooner.

In 1972 I was a little kid, and even today I can't remember much about what was happening in the world in those days. At least with any kind of detail.

Eventually, because I'd failed to convince him, my dad had no choice but to take me to the looney bin. It was in this old school building in the woods behind my house, and I remember thinking it was pretty odd that I'd never noticed it there before.

(Now is where the dream got strange)

I overheard my shrink talking about my case with some girl. The girl was assuring the doctor that I'd be much better off under her care than I'd be with all the crazies. The girl said fuck a lot - like every other word. The doctor agreed with the girl and told her that she could have custody of me.

She was just the cutest little thing. Maybe five or six, with brown hair and glasses. I suddenly realized (in my dream) that this was the girl that had started my preference for those attributes back when I was a little kid. Never mind that this made no sense because I'd certainly not been institutionalized and ran into this girl the first time I was in 1972.

This girl started walking towards me, smiling. I was just so happy to be getting out of the nuthouse. I was even happier to be leaving with the girl. I knew that all of my life's questions would be answered by this girl whose eyes sparkled even behind her glasses.

She got to me and told me her name.

I knew this girl! Never mind that she wasn't even alive, let alone five or six years old, in 1972. It was her!

She told me that bringing me to 1972 was the only way I could really start over. The only way we could start over.

I told her that was all I wanted. I leaned in to give her a hug for rescuing me. From the looney bin, and from everything else.

You can feel emotions in dreams, and this was a big dramatic moment. The kind of thing they make epic movies about.

My arms closed on emptiness, and I woke up.