Had a dream last night that a bunch of us were playing poker (which I haven’t played in a bazillion years) including Joe, but just out of the corner of my eye at the other end of the table and he was wearing a tux. Which woke me up. And then I had that Mason Rocket song looping in my head for about an hour until I fell back to sleep.

And the next (and clearer) dream was horrible. I went by the hospice to drop off some books and Joe was there! Up moving around and in good spirits and sharing a room with other people (which is weird cuz the hospice wasn’t anything like that) and when I acted surprised he laughed. He said he’d told Micheal and Evo to tell everyone he died so people would stop visiting and worrying about him and then his cancer got better (?) and now he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to let people down by being alive and all after Mur and the guys had done so much.

“But they went to your funeral in Illinois!” I yelled. And he said, “Yeah, I wanted to take the stress off my Dad, too.”

Which is so true to his nature. I could so see it all happening this way, except the guys wouldn’t play along. Joe.

Getting back to sleep after that one was impossible so I came in here and jotted that all down. I hate that I remember my dreams. Because then I lay awake forever analyzing and re-writing them until I finally resort to fantasizing pornographically just so I can get back to sleep. Yes, sex fantasies put me to sleep. Go figure.