"it was the dream!"

my life is becoming weirdly, but distinctly, third world. the door to our building has broken, allowing joe "cat burglar" shmoe to waltz in off the street. my land-"slum"-lord has tartly informed us, residents of what's now the least safe building in lower manhattan, that in compensation for putting our lives in jeopardy, he'll be turning off the hot water for several days. maybe longer. until the red sox make it to the world series, he said. (currently in game one, it doesn't look too good: yankees are up 7-0.)

to add insult to injury, my laptop got stolen. details, shmetails. it's gone. have i mentioned i have malaria? just kidding. no malaria, only gallows humor.

my housemate dina, after hearing about the laptop misfortune, totally called it: "ester! it was the DREAM!" -- see, i had this dream the night before last that i couldn't decipher. two kittens were gambolling, like they do. one started tugging on the whisker of the other. the other kitten didn't resist, and the first kept pulling, and pulling, and pulling, until he had pulled the other kitten's heart out onto the floor.
now, is that an allegory, or is that an allegory? if only i could have figured out for what. or rather, if only i could have understood that ben was one kitten and joe "computer thief" shmoe was the other, and ...
the red sox are never going to win this thing, are they. i should stop watching and go back to caring solely about politics. politics: the sport that never lets you down.