I've got to get focused and drink more

So I was fast asleep last night and dreaming of our Italian villa vacation - the last big one before my divorce. I dreamed that I went downstairs and my daughter Amelia was on the floor fixing something as I came down. I called to her "what's up Meems?" (that's what I call her, Meems - fathers have privileges and foremost among them is the right to give their kids ridiculous nicknames) and she looked at me very seriously and said: "so when are you going to spend time with me?". I was in the process of (defensively) replying when I was awakened by my smartphone who said: "Amelia Skittles Reeves has left you a message". Which was strange - not that Amelia's middle name was Skittles: I sweartogod it isn't and anyway it's not my fault - but that my phone talked to me. Because it never had before. Not so much as a "hi" (incidentally, is it appropriate to use "quotation marks" to quote a machine? The mind boggles).

So I groggily fumbled with my newly conversant phone - who oddly did not follow up her (it turns out my phone is a girl - who knew?) alert with even a regretful "sorry to wake you boss". Wincing as the phone's glare hurt my sleep laden eyes, I flipped over to my daughter's instant message account and it said: "miss you! hope to see you soon!" and not "I need money" or "why did you scare my last boyfriend away?" as one would have reasonably expected. So telepathy! Or perhaps providential fortuity or maybe quantum entanglement, I don't really know because I didn't pay any attention in Physics after I got into the college of my choice.

And for the record for all you tut tutting moms out there:  yes, I am going to spend time with my daughter and yes it will be quality time. As a matter of fact I've already bought tickets to take her to see her favorite band which I think she will consider to be much more quality time than I but it's still good Dad-age anyway.  And just because I did it before she sent her telepathic cri de coeur doesn't mean it doesn't count.

But the real question is how did I come by this rather cool clairvoyance?  The only thing I can think of is that for the first time in a long time I had a bourbon and water before I went to bed. And no Mom, that doesn't prove that I'm an alcoholic like Uncle George - he took a fifth to bed with him.  But I may be alcoholically tuned to vibrations in the space time continuum that would allow me to intuit future events while insensate (again why in the hell didn't I pay more attention in physics?) .  Anyway, I'm not taking any chances:  tonight I'm slamming a double and thinking really, really hard about those Powerball numbers. Smartphone chick don't fail me now!

Think this is weird?  Well here's a whole bunch of other non- political stuff that I've written. It works just like an Ambien prescription.