This morning, I had the single most amazing dream of my entire life. It was divided into two distinct settings, but randomly jumped between them. In one, I was married and attending a dinner party with my wife; the other couples were all parents, my mom and dad, the Salenskis, the Luberts, etc. In the other, I was married to the same girl, but she didn't appear. My dad, brother, and I were trying to get a flock of birds out of the house; we couldn't figure out how they were getting in. The birds had regular names and we knew what they were, but they had crazy feather patterns: one had yellow stripes and orange polka dots.

I know all this sounds like standard dream fare, but there was something absolutely extraordinary about my wife. I can remember everything about her except her face and name. I remember her clothes, her laugh, the scent of her hair. When she smiled at me, I felt like I could take on the whole Empire myself. I loved her, truly and deeply, more than I have loved any other woman in my whole life. I can't remember her name and I feel terrible, like I have lost a real person. I love her.