Why does the driver’s side windshield wiper always go bad first? I’ve been driving a long time and the passenger-side wiper has never gone wonky first. I can’t see shit, but the pinhead I carpool with has a clear view of everything, even though she’s sleeping so soundly that her shirt’s covered in drool. The Car Gods are out to kill me.

Why aren’t I missing any clothes? My dryer kicks out a baseball-sized ball of lint with every load, yet the clothes come out looking like they did when I put ‘em in there. Where does all the lint come from? Do dryers make lint? If they come from the clothes and I never buy new clothes, you’d think that eventually I’d toss a bunch of laundry in the dryer and nothing would come out but lint. And I’d be okay with that. That would make sense. As it is now, the whole thing is just confusing and kinda scary.

Why do I know, without hesitation or doubt, that the dream I’m having about Claudia Schiffer is complete bullshit, but the one where I’m being chased by a three-headed dragon/dog thing that wants to eat my face seems so real that I often wake up covered in sweat, running down a stretch of highway in my drawers screaming, “Bad dog! Bad dog!”?

Knowing a good dream is a dream while it’s happening makes it a bad dream. You’d think that Ms. Schiffer washing my car in the buff would be a really good dream. But I know it’s nonsense right away because you can’t get windows that clean just using your tongue. (All the other details of that dream seem extremely plausible.) Yet the three-headed beast thing seems real. I’m probably just crazy. I saw a shrink about it, but she turned out to be Elle MacPherson and she was naked…

Why does it never occur to us that we need to buy lightbulbs until we suddenly find ourselves sitting in the dark?

Why do we dust? I’ve been told a million times that I should dust more, obviously by people who do not realize that I have never dusted at all. Ever. Oh, I bought a feather duster thingy, and I have it prominently displayed to create the illusion that dusting-related activities might be taking place regularly. But I’ve always found dusting to be a prolonged exercise in knocking dust back up into the air. I like my dust right out in the open where I can see it, in inch-thick layers on every horizontal surface in the house. This way I can skip dusting completely and shovel my dust once a year instead, making it a more manly chore and giving my snow shovel some Spring-time functionality.

Why do I always sneeze twice? Nothing wrong with a good sneeze. Kind of exhilirating, actually. But what was so wrong with the first sneeze that I need another one right away?

This is the kind of silly shit that keeps me up nights…

Tags: windshield wipers, dreams, laundry, dusting, lightbulb, sneeze