Sequence.

I've decided to call my car "The Mouse." Maybe Mini Mouse or Mighty Mouse, but I'll probably keep it simple. The one word names are the best. I've always given my cars names. I've had The Whale, The Appliance, The Beast, The Truck, Three-Ball, The ZEE, X-Box, and The Pimp.

On an unrelated matter I've decided to run with the Bs for a while vis-a-vis my fake names at Starbucks. I'm vaguely aware that the group of women who prepare my coffee drink might start to pick up on the constantly changing litany of names. I figure if I stay somewhat consistent, in the same family of fake names at least, it might throw them off the trail. Probably I'm just another unremarkable middle aged guy buying coffee; I'd be surprised if any of them could pick me out of a police line-up. I suspect that not everyone else is thinking about me as much as I am.

I pondered using Brad again but it had an evil feel today so I decided on Bruce. Unfortunately, I froze at the last minute and blurted out Brian. I have no idea where that came from. I guess I wasn't Bruce today. All of this shift changing occupied my mind and I forgot what name I had given.

"Brian. Brian? Brian!?!" yelled the barista, looking around before I lurched into action.

I have my mind set on Boris tomorrow. It's getting cold so I feel an awakening of my inner Russian.

I had a dream last night that I killed some people. I'm not sure how many people I killed but it was definitely more than one. I was not upset about the murders at all. We had watched a documentary about how the court system dealt with a woman whose husband had beat the shit out of her and their kids for years until she had had enough and evened the score with extreme prejudice. The documentary was intentionally ambiguous. Obviously this story had weaseled itself into my subconscious and it came burbling out at night. I can't say my behavior in my dream surprised me -- it was another example of me behaving badly and justifying it in my own mind.

I almost never remember my dreams. Usually I'm naked in a public place. Not sexual naked, just not wearing any clothes and trying to do normal things. I'm often in school or at an important business meeting, late, unprepared, unsure of the timing and location of the event. More obsession with lack of control.

Anyway, the murder dream was kind of upsetting; not upsetting, really, but stimulating. I couldn't get back to sleep and I found that my mind continued working within the dream sequence. I was plotting how to get away with my crime. How to get in my house without alerting the cops; how to get money, transportation, food. Where would I go? I thought about walking over to Shorty's and asking to borrow his car.

Even when I'm asleep I'm trying to get away with something.