(no subject)

[moominmolly]

I'll admit it. Most mornings, the first thing I do is roll off the end of the bed, slump over to the computer, and read my email while David snoozes behind me. This is before drinking my water, before getting dressed, before brushing my teeth or eating or having a quick pee, and well before the first cup of coffee.

This habit might be why I sometimes wake up dreaming of my mail spool. It's not quite a dream, but I suppose there's no other word for the images you see after you stop sleeping but before you wake up. The other day, I found the word "moistle" in this spot. This morning, I saw a tall black terminal window. It wasn't running mutt, but rather some mind-driven text-based mailer. I could focus on a subject line and see through it to the message underneath. (It was pretty damn handy, but in the waking world, I'll stick to mutt until someone implements it.)

When I dream of my mail spool, all of the mail is personal and interesting. Sarge sends me little notes about amusing work shit. Friends I haven't spoken with in a few years email me out of the blue to tell me about their lives. Today, someone sent me three messages out of boredom. One included the line, "Well, usually spending time with Molly isn't better than scratching my eyes out with a fork, but today is an exception. Are you busy?" This morning, I lingered in bed to make sure I read it all. That's pretty damn dorky.

So, no, none of the dream-mail is ever waiting for me. I'm tempted, sometimes, to write to the people who write to my head and ask them what's up? but somehow never manage to get around to it.