I wasn’t feeling well last week and took off work early to go home and sleep. I wound up sleeping probably 14 hours or so. I did a lot of dreaming, and things got weird.
I dreamt that I tried to explain to my wife that I dreamed about making notes about a dream I had that I felt would make a great movie or TV show. How deep is that? When she came to bed, I think I told her about that, but who knows, maybe I dreamt that also (maybe I’m dreaming this ;-).
Sadly, very little of the original dream is left. The title: “She, Detective.” The MC: Emily, a lesbian who suffers horribly emotionally at all the tragic stuff she sees, but does all her crying at home, alone, and is a stoic hardass at work. I was thinking she was the only detective in a smallish town, so it wouldn’t always be about dead people. Her sidekick was a cub reporter (wtf is a cub reporter anyway?) named Charlie, who was so intent on getting his great story he was always getting into trouble.
There was a lot more, but it’s all gone now. I wonder if it is because we were rewatching an episode of “The Closer” that had Stana Katic, who was Becket in “Castle.”
