I went to bed with a bit of a knot in my stomach last night after watching a particularly frightening episode of one of my favorite television shows. In the last two minutes of the episode, someone who was killed in the last season SHOT OUT OF THE WATER and grabbed the hand of someone on a boat, which turned me into a nervous wreck who may or may not have stabbed a pile of laundry with a pair of scissors because it was dark and the laundry looked suspicious.

Anyway, I was expecting to have terrible dreams involving murder or stabbing or giant piles of dirty laundry. Instead, in my nightmare, my mother replaced my toothbrush with one of those free ones from the dentist, and she didn't care that the bristles were hurting my gums.