Me: Shef, you've gotta stop picking your nose.

Shef: But I like to.

Me: Well, it's just not the greatest thing to do.

Shef: I love it.

Me: It's disgusting.

Shef: It's my fave.

I remember from last time that pregnancy can cause really strange dreams, and I’ve been having some doozies. The weirdest ones come in the morning, right before I wake up.

This morning, I dreamed that I had attached one of those black office clips to my lip. (That’s not the weird part. I would totally do that, just ask my mother.)

Then, the black clip caused some kind of paralytic nerve injury when I was trying to remove it; and my lip folded over on itself, swelled up, and felt frozen as if under the influence of novocaine. (Maybe that’s actually entirely probable?)

And then, I led a discussion about symbolism and other literary devices with a small group from my sixth hour at a round table, while trying to navigate my lip. It kept getting stuck under my teeth, and most of the students were either snickering at me or laughing outright. None of them had read the text we were discussing, and I was trying valiantly to get them to make some guesses about the importance of the colors mentioned in it. (Now that I think about it, this more-or-less mimics my in-real-life experience of sixth hour at least a couple of times per week, so this dream I guess is remarkably realistic. My lip feels a little tingly just now, reliving it.)