Mirrors.

Not that long ago I wrote, but here's some fun.

Was a having a dream this morning. Greater details of the dream were not important, though I was glad that Anna called around one to rouse me from it, if that tells you anything, but what was interesting and has stuck with me is the fact that in said dream part of it was me looking at myself in a mirror.

All right, all fairness and transparency [take note, Mr. Obama!], it was the reflective surface of the inside of an office building's air duct, but I digress.

The important thing was, while looking at myself, I didn't have the beard. Nope, not at all, same hair, same glasses, same face for the most part, but the beard was not there, just the old school Don Johnson stubble I used to rock. And I wonder, is this, in my mind, how I see myself? Really?

I'm hoping I just haven't gotten to the point where my mind registers the beard. I like it, be a shame to have to shave it.