Image © National Geographic Society
Lately, I have been plagued by some crazy dreams. The other night I dreamt that I was still living in the house I grew up in (in New Jersey—hang on; that's not the scariest part!). I looked out an upstairs bedroom window at the neighbor's house only to discover that it had been converted into a kennel that housed both dogs and, um, dinosaurs. The resident T-Rex kept slamming his head through the window to roar at me like a pointy-toothed Mr. Ed. No one else in the dream seemed particularly perturbed by the fact that dinosaurs roamed among us or that the biggest and fiercest of them all was stopping by to say "hey." So I tried a logical approach to an argument. I said, "I'm not going to be able to get much work done with all that noise." I don't remember what happened next. It's probably just as well. Carnage, I am sure, ensued.