fine whine

I've been having dreams involving co-workers lately. This is an odd phenomenon for me, since I'm used to a cast of unknowns in my nightly "features". This time around I was working in something outside like a lumber yard, but there wasn't any lumber around. The location and work were secondary, because evidently some of my co-workers were aliens. Illegal interstellar aliens, who looked exactly like my co-workers but were different in only one noticeable way: evidently when they defecated it was a gigantic pile of weird goo. Like elephant piles, but not dung of this Earth. They were being persecuted, or at least chased. I have no clue what the point or meaning would be.

Speaking of big smelly heaps of dung, today's the California recall. I'm almost relieved. Despite living half a continent away, I am barraged on all sides by the recall coverage. Arnold this, Cruz that, Arianna and Georgie and so on. It's tiresome. I don't need the play-by-play on an election that for a while was only a possibility and still hasn't been decided. Yes, the absentee ballots were cast along ago and by tonight the rest will have as well, but I still have three or four painful weeks of inevitable coverage on NPR and such. I've figured it out: when something like this is happening, tell me when it's over. If nothing that I can possibly do could possibly change the course of events, don't waste my time. If things are still up in the air, wait till they come back down.