At some point last night I fell asleep while watching television.
Oprah must have come on in the form of a rerun - and it integrated into a dream I was had where someone was talking about me to Oprah as though I had serious problems with something.
I woke up to my boyfriend asking me if I needed anything.
I should have gotten up at that point and said,
Yes, lets go out..
I didn't. But I should have. Because, right then I had had enough sleep.
Because I have a problem with leaving the warmth of my apartment these days.
The Oprah dream was so real.
In other news - a plug for Picante on Division in Wicker Park:
We love you.
And your sign that explains (so straightforwardly) that you no longer make tamales (because they take too much time to do it the right way - and refuse to do it the wrong way).
Integrity. Got to love that.