I just woke up from a dream.  I was an astronaut, and it was the day I was supposed to be shot into space on a Soyuz styled capsule.   Once I arrived at the launch pad, I’m told that my mission has been cancelled, and an alternate astronaut has been sent in my place.  The reason I was pulled?  I had written a lot of nasty things about NASA, to which they found via keyword triggered, automated google alerts.  The kicker?  The person delivering me the news was a retail store assistant manager I very much don’t like, in the waking world.

I have hardly ever written about NASA, but my sleeping paranoid brian is trying to tell me something, here.  And, I do know what it is.