Dollar dreams

Every couple of hours last night, I'd wake up from a dream, shake my head through the fog, and go back to sleep. I recall doing that, but not the dreams I woke from except for the one I woke from this morning: I got a bonus at work. A big fat bonus of seven dollars. It didn't seem to phase me. With my seven dollars, I went to a store and bought seven Frisbees for Cheyenne. And when I got home, she chewed them all up as if they were a Christmas ham or a wedge of Parmesan cheese left on the kitchen counter. My living room floor was covered in brightly colored bits of plastic Frisbee. Then I woke up. And recalling the dream, I thought, the meaning of nothingness, that's what that dream was about.

This morning at the park, however, Cheyenne found a bright blue Frisbee and pounced on it. She looked at me a minute and then turned her attention back to the Frisbee, which she put in her mouth and started shaking back and forth as if it were a rope and someone else was on the other side of the knot and her mission was to win by destruction. As I watched her, I said to no one in particular but out loud nonetheless, I hope this doesn't mean I'm getting a seven dollar bonus.