5:39 a.m. I left my windows open last night and woke up around 3AM when a storm blew in. After a bit of momentary confusion, I realized I was getting pelted in the face with rain. Interestingly, in that blur between REM sleep and consciousness, I had been having a nightmare about the hated hair-trigger automatic toilets they have in my gym...the ones that flush anytime I move/talk/breath. These toilets are so super-powerful that you could probably flush a small child without difficulty. I have taken to gingerly tip-toeing into the stalls and hovering gracefully above the commode so as to avoid the unpleasant splash-back. (Rather a rude awakening when you're not expecting a spritzer down there.) Anyway, when I woke up I'd been dreaming that the water in the toilet at my gym (as I was sitting on it) formed into a hand and was pinching my butt. Fresh toilet. Taking liberties.
Ew. I just had a disconcerting thought...I should check for spider bites.
Anyway, as I'd predicted in my post-that-is-no-more, I am going to be going to Minnesota to run four cases next week. Which works out as far as timing because I will also be attending a big 'ol family reunion. I think the most recent count is 41 people in attendance. Should be good times. And this is my DAD'S side of the family, too. While Mom's people were dignified, pedigreed aristocrats, my ancestors from the paternal line, (as I've mentioned before, but it's worth mentioning again), got kicked out of England for stealing the king's horses. That sort of says it all, I think.
This afternoon, after I return from the hairdresser, I'm going to write about a case involving a homicide detective who had to shoot a crazy man on the freeway during morning rush hour. This was a very interesting case.