Something in my brain broke in the past year and I can’t see typos anymore. It worries me and  

Something in my brain broke in the past year and I can’t see typos anymore. It worries me and I delete more tweets than can be counted. It’s not the words that disappear, but for so long I could find a misplaced comma in a textbook and now that sensation of spotting has diminished. Odd to be an editor now and not a line-reader. Larger screen, daily glasses, yes. But also the shame of so often mis-speaking in public; seeing only the mistakes and not the intended thought.

Last night I dreamt a few things. I dreamt I read “Arcades” and I dreamt of a notebook w  

Last night I dreamt a few things. I dreamt I read “Arcades” and I dreamt of a notebook with another notebook in it and the thing was called “Foresight.” I dreamt of an up-scrolling blog (because aren’t these anecdotes running the wrong way) and then that got one-upped. I dreamt I was in love, and dreamt that was enough. I dreamt I got over not writing and I dreamt of other things. Did you dream last night, or did you sleep like a lamb and spend the day making, instead?