Ranting and Raving

That was the title to the Philip K. Dick short story that the Ridley Scott Classic Blade Runner was based on.

I do not if it is true or not, but I do know that when I doze off on the train, I dream of food. All kinds of food. Imagine the most delicious pizza…I have, and in the process of taking a bite of this imaginary culinary delight, I have bit down on my cheek so hard I have drawn blood.

I dreamt once of this magnificent sandwich….probably the most delicious thing imaginable. I grasped it in my hands, proceeded to lean forward preparing to take a bite. It reaches my mouth and then BAM! The most unbelievable pain that startles me awake from my sleep on the train. I had bitten the side of my tongue with so much gusto that, after surveying the damage with my finger, it returned coated in blood.

So the other day, using what I have now determined is images from a previous night’s Iron Chef America, I began dreaming of ravioli. There were a few in this dish. Each with a green strip down the middle, plump with ricotta cheese, hot, steamy and covered in a delicious looking alfredo sauce. Absolutely beautiful. All of the sudden, one of the ravioli speaks! In this deep, baritone, Barry White voice, it says to the ravioli right next to it;

“You are one fine lookin’ delicious ravioli”.

And here I am, observing this scene, thinking to myself ‘THAT IS a mighty fine lookin’ ravioli’. I then begin to lean in for a bite. I get closer and closer and begin to realize that I am in hazy area between a light nap and alertness. I can feel myself smacking my lips in anticipation and since I am leaning forward, I have almost reached the back of the seat in front of me. Finally my brain tells me ‘WAKE UP IDIOT!’ and I do. Looking around….I hope no one has seen me do this and thankfully no one had.

Once I realized what had happened, I lean over to the Wife and tell her the whole story. She laughs the kind of laugh that, if you get a woman to laugh like this, they will marry you.

I have come to the conclusion that this two hour commute is stripping me of my last bit of sanity. And if I don’t do something about it soon, well there might not be much left of me to recognize.