If funnel cake was the culprit, it was worth it.

There is indeed something strange happening round these parts of late. Something shifty. Yes shifty. And it has me thinking worried thoughts.

For starters I had a nightmare during my nap the other day. Is this even possible? Heretofore I had always assumed naptime was a nightmare free zone. Granted this was a particularly long nap, let’s just say two hours, but I’ve had similar naps before and it has always been just pure unadulterated peace sleep. You're probably wondering what the nightmare was about. Well I have no quandaries in sharing. I was in the midst of a very cool group of people. No idea who they were, but they just oozed of awesomeness. My hair was looking particularly kempt. I was smiling . . . a lot.

Then suddenly I realized that my tooth had fallen out. And when I went to assess the damage in a mirror, the two teeth surrounding the gaping hole fell out also. And I began screaming. That’s when I slowly came back to consciousness in real life, there on my couch. I didn’t even need to open my eyes to realize that my mouth was pulled back in horror. Dream interpreters could you get on that one please?

Then later in the week, I had decided to make lasagna for dinner because I was feeling up to it. So I pulled my normal recipe out of my head and went to work. All was going well, bubbling away in the oven. The family evetually gathered anxiously around the table for their food. I started dishing the hot lasagna out and I just felt all wrong about it. It was off-putting. I took a bite and had to spit it out because it tasted of mold and sickness and bacteria. I bent over the lasagna in the pan and took a deep whiff in and smelled nothing but disgusting. No hint of delicious. I coughed out the putrid air.

By now I had alerted the family to the fact that dinner had been poisoned by some unseen troll, but they decided to eat it anyway. And it tasted fine to them. Not only did they eat it, but they licked their plates clean while I sat and watched with awe and shock. I was sure they had just ingested a horrible fate. But several days later, they are fine, and I am left to wonder what that was all about and why I was the only one eating Pasta Roni that night.

I have four theories as to what has brought about such peculiarities:

1. That whole being sick as a dog thing still lingers and I might have permanently damaged brain cells as a result of so much sputtering and heave ho’ing of phlegm.

2. Did I ever tell you about that time I went to the moon? I really didn’t have the right footwear and maybe something infected me by way of foot.

3. I also went to Mars (same trip). I daresay there are a plethora of things that could have infiltrated my system during that dusty sojourn.

4. There was also the consuming of state fair funnel cake that seems to coincide with the timeline of events.

As you can see, all theories involve some sort of something corrupting me from inside out. But at this point I can’t even trust my own judgment, let alone taste buds, so I open this up for discussion.

Tally ho.