I’ve taken to tearing my face up while I sleep. I go to bed just fine, but when I wake up I have several red tears on either side face from my eyes to my chin. I’ve worked out that these are most likely from the uneven edges of my nails. A few days ago one of these red lines was even partly scabbed over. My face then stings all day. This is disconcerting for several reasons, not the least of which is because I have an abnormal fear of sleep-(anything): sleep-walking, sleep-talking, sleep-laughing, sleep-burping, sleep-farting, sleep-vomiting, anything at all that a person can do not of their own power. It’s just weird.

Dreams are strange too. I’m not talking about MLK Jr. style dreams, those are just fine, I’m talking about the “I’m driving around under the ocean in a car naked, but it turns out it’s not a car, it’s a delicious McDonald’s Filet-o’-Fish Sandwich etc.etc.etc” stuff. What the hell is the point of all that stuff? It’s totally unnecessary.

Think of all the bad dreams you’ve had, or barring that, think of the last bad dream you had. I bet you can. I can remember mine, it was about snakes. Gross.

Now, think of all the good dreams you’ve had, or barring that, think of even the last good dream you had, a dream where you can remember being really happy. I’m willing to bet you can’t remember it. I’ll tell you flat out that I haven’t had a great dream in a long while. The last really great dream I had was when I was 14 years old and I thought I was in Disneyworld, but then I looked around myself and I WAS IN DISNEYWORLD AND IT WASN’T A DREAM! Man, that was awesome.

But anyway, the purpose of that little exercise was to illustrate how worthless dreams are. If they aren’t bad, they are stupid. Sorry children. Everything you’re parents tell you when they tuck you in to bed is a lie. Especially that peeing the bed at age 15 is normal. It only becomes normal again in college.

Back to topic: so I bite my nails, and then my subconscious thinks it’s just hilarious to make me rake their jagged edges down my face while I’m asleep like I’m some sort of wailing woman. That’s just great.

I must be a psycho when I sleep. I already have to wear a bite plate because I’ve managed to grind my K-9’s to nothing over the course of two or three years; rather than point down like they are supposed to, they’re actually slightly concave. Makes for a nice even smile, but technically speaking, I am now officially more suited to chewing cud than tearing meat. That was my first tip off that perhaps I take out the aggressions of the day subconsciously; when my dentist looked into my mouth and went, “Good God! What happened to your teeth?”

So I was looking at the welts on my face in the mirror this morning and I got to thinking: what the hell do I have to be worried about? What on God’s Green Earth do I, Brad, have to worry about? Huh? Huh subconscious? You in there you rat-bastard? You hear me? What am I worried about? You’re the one going all horror-show on me, so why don’t you just come out with it you cocksucker!?!

Silence. It’s Infuriating.

Seriously, let’s take stock here:
Easy job: check
Financially sound: check
Fabulously good looking (sans welts): check
Having fun in Japan: check
Low stress work environment: check
Rockin’ family: check
Dreamy eyes: check
Nice facial hair growing abilities: check
Have a student that requested I henceforth refer to him in class as “April Fool”: check
Have another student that requested I call him “Train”: check
Have another student that requested I call him “Ferrari”: check
Have still another student that requested I call him “Number 13” (honest to God): check


All check out as awesome, and yet the red lines running down my face tell me things aren’t adding up somewhere.


I don’t get it myself.