I was in a strange room, having slept there because I could not find my way home. I thought maybe I had had too much to drink the night before and fallen asleep on an alien bed. When I awoke, it was bright day, and I was hyper-aware that time was a-wasting. I had a powerful sense that I needed to get in touch with the office or something terrible would happen. 

This is no surprise, I think. Something terrible is happening pretty much every day now, and not in dreamland, either. 

I got dressed and went looking for my BlackBerry and cell phone. They were both dead. I realized I was in an unfamiliar place and there might be a huge issue finding chargers for my electronic devices. I saw on a table in the living room of the place a jumble of chargers. I started looking through them. Each held promise, but when I got to the service end of it that was meant to interface with my phone or BlackBerry, it was the wrong type. I tried one. Then I tried another. None of the chargers fit. Somewhere in there somebody came to the door of the apartment. It was a guy from High School I haven’t seen in a long time and had no desire to see now, particularly in this desperate situation with the chargers and everything. He started to talk to me about insurance. I left him in the hall and continued looking. 

Finally I realized there was still a tiny bit of charge in my BlackBerry, because it was ringing. I answered it, even though I hate to use those things as a phone. They always remind me of Maxwell Smart talking to 99 with a shoe in his ear. 

“Hello?” I said into the dying BlackBerry. 

“You need help,” said a voice I didn’t recognize. “We’re all worried about you.” 

Then I woke up.  I wonder what it means. 

I’m glad I told you about it, even though I don’t feel much better. In fact, I now realize that my cell phone is downstairs and it’s getting kind of late. I wonder if I charged it last night. I fear I didn’t. See you later.