It appears as though I'm sliding off my trolley tracks yet again. It's different this time, though: I'm not feeling sad so much as angry. I've been having visions of smashing guitars a la rock stars ... I finally see the appeal in that particular gesture.
I dreamt about the keychain I lost the day I tore my Achilles tendon. I didn't have this dream last night; this was a few days ago, but for some reason, it's still in my mind. The lost pickle.
I tried to find the lyrics to "Help Me, Rhonda," and instead I found this. Something tells me there are Beach Boys turning over in their graves.
*bonus points if anyone can correctly identify that movie. Hint: I think the line was followed by "one ... two ... three ... four ..."