What I Get for Sleeping In

This morning, after turning my alarm clock off when I meant to hit snooze, I had this odd--and oddly pleasant--dream:

Eric and I were sitting at one end of a long table in a room somewhere, watching Better Than Ezra play a very informal concert. When a pink and yellow fish that looked like a cow and had hinged plastic legs swam through the air and landed on my head, the lead singer of the band picked it out of my hair, put it in a plastic bag full of water, and gave it to a woman sitting across the table. And I thought, disdainfully, that he should have given it to me because she would just put it in a bowl, where it would die because such an exotic fish clearly needs a more carefully regulated habitat than that.