The problem with good sleep

The problem with good sleep (eight hours straight last night, near as I can tell) is the long dreams that you remember. Then the part where you want to tell everyone about your long dream, then realize nobody cares and it's boring, but you tell them anyway, and then you regret having said anything at all because you remember, again, that it's boring.

So forget I told you I dreamed about going from building to building and office to office exchanging cell phones for three straight days and at the end a chorus sang, with bad prosody and even worse rhyming, "Doesn't cost too much lira/You are my hero." Good thing I don't remember the music, because I can't imagine the piece I would have to write in order to use it.