Empty-Headed Morning

Dearest Rachel –

After all but nodding off in front of the family room television last night at around ten, I did the sensible thing, and headed off to bed. So it shouldn’t come as any great surprise when I find myself awake at six, long before my routine kicks in and I prepare to head to the ‘office.’ Having showered after hitting the gym in the afternoon, I don’t feel the need to anything along those lines this morning, which frees up another half hour or so. So I have all kinds of time to reach out to you, and tell you what’s been going on.

Only… I can’t seem to think of anything to focus on to tell you about. Most days, it seems I have an outline of something to write you; if nothing else, there’s one (or more) weird dream that you would be interested in, had you still been around. My unconscious mind is pretty good at organizing my thoughts overnight, when it feels like doing so.

But clearly, today hasn’t been one of those days. As I listen to the rain on the bedroom roof, and slowly become aware that there’s a light on in the family room (indicating that Daniel fell asleep in his rocking chair without bothering to relocate to the couch), I try to check in with my unconscious as it punches out after its shift from running things in Nerve Central.

“Hey… got anything for me?”

All I get is a quizzical look and a shake of the head. “Nah… pretty uneventful night. Y’didn’t even mess up your back with those rowing exercises; I really thought that was gonna leave you sore, and I was gonna get blamed for that.”

“Oh, come on, you know I wouldn’t do that; that’d have been on me. I know when it’s because I slept wrong, and when I overexerted myself. You’re fine.” I tilt my head back and forth, as I loosen out what few kinks I can sense. “Even this,” I say as I rub my neck, “feels more like what’s left from sitting at my desk staring at my computer screen for too long; I really need to make a point of getting up and changing positions now and again.”

“Mm. Wouldn’t know about that; you don’t really move much on my shift.”

“Well, I should hope not. I’m supposed to be comfortable enough to sleep, after all. Why should I need to mess with anything when I’m comfortable?”

“S’pose not. Anyway, you didn’t come up here just to shoot the breeze with me at the end of a night, did you? You want something, don’t you?”

He’s got me there. “Heh. Can’t lie to you, can I?”

“Not when I’m you, and I know what you’re thinking, even when you don’t.”

That’s certainly true enough. “Well, look… I’m up earlier than usual –”

“Because you had me come in earlier, remember?”

“Yes, yes, I know. Do you want an apology from me?”

“Nah; it’s my job. Just pointing it out.”

“Okay, fine then. Anyway, I don’t what to do with myself. Ordinarily, I’d write her, y’know, especially since I usually just crib off of what you’ve put together overnight.”

”Ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere. You were asking me if I had anything put together to tell her about, like you do. That makes sense.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t have much today; at least, nothing in terms of dreams or anything. Got this footage of you doing vocals in a club, accompanied by Tony Randall and Jack Klugman…”

“The Odd Couple?”

Yup. D’ja know they cut an album?

“Uh, yeah, I read about that somewhere, but I never listened to it. When did you ever…?”

“You kidding? If you didn’t, I didn’t. But I moonlight in the Imagination Department – how d’ya think I got this gig building dreams? I can’t have Iddy coming up here every night to put together reels of you and her doing… whatever that was… every night.”

“Wait… you… and my id… put together scenes of me and Rachel…”

“Doin’ the nasty? Whaddya think Iddy specializes in? Sure, if I feel the need for some down time on the job, I give him a call, and he’s only too happy to oblige. Dude, he liked her too, in his own way.”

“Why don’t I ever remember any of this?”

“Are you kidding? You know Iddy. He can make a mess; I gotta clean up after him, or you’ll lose blood flow up here. Besides, if he works long enough that you notice, I get word from the lab about your serotonin levels dropping. You think too hard – get that look off your face, you know what I mean – about everything you miss about her, and you’re hurting. So yeah, I get all that stuff mopped up before I punch out, and you’re never the wiser. Or sadder. Sorry, pal, that’s how it’s gotta be.”

This is a lot to take in. “Huh. Well, y’know… I think I’d be willing to take those chances. Have him come up a little later in your shift, next time you feel like inviting him up here.”

Eh, I’m not making any promises; dude comes – again with that face? Really? Grow up – when he wants to, on his own schedule, such as it is. You know Iddy. But I’ll see about letting him do his thing a little longer at some point. I don’t think the lab’s gonna be too keen on the idea, though.

“Well, maybe you can check with them? Or maybe have them come up with a predictive about Megumi?”

He snorts. “That’s IT, not the lab. You don’t mess with chemicals around the electronics doing calculations, unless it’s absolutely necessary. Anyway, I don’t think they’ve come up with anything in that department.”

“Geez, I didn’t realize there was such an organization running things back here.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Nobody does. It’s kinda the point; we’re not s’posed to call attention to ourselves.”

“Yeah, well… I know it’s you putting together ideas for me to write her about. Do you happen to have anything?”

”And see, this is why we’re not s’posedta. I get bored a couple times, put together an outline or two, and then, you’re wanting one by the time I clock out every morning. I don’t need the extra hassle; the job’s a fairly dull one, but sometimes, a little empty-headedness is a good thing, y’know what I’m saying?

“Dude, you’ve got a life in the waking world; tell her about that. Tell her about the workouts, and how you’re weighing yourself two and three times a day; y’really shouldn’t do that so often, you’ll bounce around and get discouraged. Tell her about the discount you wangled on next year’s trip by paying now; saving a few large ain’t nothin’ t’sneeze at. Heck, even if you’re a little worried about how you’re gonna get your taxes filed next year because of it, you could mention it.”

“Yeah, but you just did all that in a single paragraph.”

“Did I? Aw, nuts. Look, you’re good at adding a lotta words to it; you can elaborate further on it in a later effort if y’wanna. I’m just sayin’ y’got a lot of real life to tell her about, okay? Y’don’t need t’come running to me all the time.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, my shift’s over, y’know. I don’t mind sticking around – heck, you recall when I usedta hang out here until nine or ten, when you were really feelin’ it…”

“Yeah, I do, Thanks for that, by the way.”

“All in a night’s work, but I gotta get back; Egon and Supes are gonna show up, sooner or later, and I’d just as soon make myself scarce before they get all high and mighty. You take care, buddy, and think about what I said.”

I grin. “Think about it? I’ll write it down.”

The look on my unconscious’ face is priceless. He realizes I’ve just conned him into helping my write this letter to you after all, as well as giving me a few other ideas for later (assuming I feel they’re worth elaborating on). Then he breaks into a grin. “Heh. Y’got me. All right, you do that… and you send her my regards, too, okay? You watch yourself out there.”

So, I guess I owe you greetings from my unconscious mind… and apparently, from my id, for whatever that might be worth.

Take care of yourself, honey. Keep an eye on me, too, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.