Shattered Dreams

Remember my dream from the other night? I've been amused this week by how quirky my subconscious is. Not all my dreams are so easy to interpret, of course. Remember how strange this one was?

Well, I shared my dream with a few friends who don't read my blog. (Can you imagine??? But they're not online. Can't hold it against them.) and they said I should write it up and send it as a letter to the editor.

So, I did.

The paper I sent it to printed a sanitized version of the letter. Left out the candidates names, omitted the 'little people' they carried around with them, and didn't mention that in my dream, they all shared the same bedroom. Hey, I didn't make the news, I just reported it.

I was aggravated that they messed with my letter. It's their policy to print letters exactly as they're received, typos, spelling errors or grammatical problems left intact. My own experience bears this out. Every letter I've ever sent to them was printed exactly as I sent it. They never even changed a comma.

I decided to email the editor with my opinion:

I found it quite humorous that the names of the candidates who moved into my "dream house" and the idea of the little people who tell them what to say were removed from my recent letter. It's especially amusing because it appears that almost anyone can say practically anything they want about the people running for office. Lots of that in YOUR newspaper, as a matter of fact. What made my letter different?

There's a story about a writer and editor stranded in the desert. They wander up and down the dunes, parched and hot, struggling to find their way out.When they are at the end of their endurance... staggering, barely able to move, the writer spots an oasis in the distance. Hope lends them strength, and they manage to make it to the lovely pool of water in a lush patch of grass, under the shade of beautiful trees.

The writer falls to her stomach by the water and begins to drink. Her thirst temporarily slaked, she notices a noise.
She looks up to see the editor peeing in the water.
"What are you doing?!" she asks, horrified.
"I'm making it BETTER." the editor replies.

Thanks for peeing on my October 26th letter.


Then, I signed my name and hit send.
::snort::

I'll let you know if the editor answers. My guess is no. But sometimes interesting things happen.