Last night I woke up at 2 in the morning with wicked bad indigestion. I ate too much, too late, with too much salt and oil. But I blame my genes anyway.

Anyway, it was so bad at one point that I was sure I was gonna boot, so I grabbed a bowl and went and tried to rest sitting up on the couch. I fell asleep with Boomer purring in my lap (I did not hurl at any point) and dreamed that Julia and I led a go-for-broke rescue mission to save Captain Malcolm Reynolds, who had been kidnapped, shot, and locked up in a utility truck. Also, he was the President Captain of the United States. Don't worry. Julia and I successfully stormed the castle gates and rescued his ass.