One way or the nother the headaches are giving me some fits, and only large doses of guaifenesin are keeping me from drilling holes in my head to let the pressure out.

it has made for some pretty strange sleep/dream cycles, in any event.

Last night, in the middle of a bathroom excursion, I found myself leaning against the wall and a sentence rushed into my head.

It was one of those sentences, the ones you dream that your muse will bestow on you, a sentence that has the depth of hemingway, the cleverness of Steinbeck. It was such a good sentence that I had to say it out loud, and feel it on my tongue, and it felt like drinking 1928 Chateau d’Yquem. Then I realized what subtle snark it contained, of a level on a par with the very best, in language old enough that Twain would have understood, and laughed immediately, but PJ O’Rourke would have found it current and fresh. it lit up my whole brain, and I thought, I can write a whole book around this one sentence, and it will be a bestseller. I was still giggling when I drifted off to sleep.

And now it’s gone. it’s like losing a pet. I feel like crapola. Damn.