Last night I dreamt that I was building a wall. Just me and my trowel, slathering mortar on red brick. If that isn't material for a psych case study, what is? Freud would love it.

It actually made me laugh because it reminded me of an I'll-do-it-myself incident several years ago involving 30 lbs. of QuikCrete and the installation of the family basketball post. I think we had to get rid of both the shovel and the wheelbarrow.

It was one of those times my mother used my middle name and meant it.