I woke up this morning from a dream in which my grandmother had been murdered. Everyone else thought she had died in her sleep, but I was suspicious, because who goes to sleep in a giant, person-sized dresser drawer? And the drawer was closed, how could she have done that?

So I launched my own amateur investigation, and by the time I woke up, I had just about discovered that Wyclef Jean did it. He had the means and opportunity, but I hadn’t yet worked out motive.

Speaking of sleep, I decided recently that mine is like a train. I fall asleep fairly easily on my first try, but if my sleep is interrupted, it takes a long time for me to fall asleep again.

I think what happens is the sleep train is coming along, and I jump on. But then if I miss that train, I can’t just fall asleep on my own. I have to wait for the next sleep train to come by. Sometimes, they are hours apart. And no sleep trains seem to run between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m.

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