what is the word

It's been a craptastic morning already. But kind of in a funny way. I dreamed I was dogsitting again, only it wasn't Utz the Pup, it was a bulldog & some sort of small terrier, & instead of Bushwick I was in a crumbling old ruined manor house in a lush & verdant setting like maybe Savannah Georgia or someplace like that. Out in the overgrown savage yard there was a tennis court with a flimsy net & a big concrete wall & I was obsessed with going out there to whack a ball around by myself the way I did in our garage in Barbados when I was a kid. I spent the rest of the dream exploring this big old manor house looking for a racquet & a proper ball with the dogs anxiously sniffing along behind me.
When I finally woke up I'd completely overslept & I never did get to play tennis anyway & I ran around my apartment throwing clothes on & trying to find my cellie but I couldn't. I gave up & dashed out. I was listening to Don Caballero on my iPod, inspired by this silly "Who's your favorite drummer?" survey on myspace. After a minute I noticed there wasn't any fantastic drumming coming out of my left earphone; actually there wasn't any sound from my left earphone at all. Then I noticed that the white plastic of the cord was cut away in places & frayed bits of sparkly green & red wires were coming out like Christmas decorations. I have no idea how this happened. I seem to have forgotten a substantial portion of last nite. It started in a civilized enough manner at a little wine & cheese soirée at Sara's, but it ended -- well, I don't know how it ended, actually.
Sometimes I think I am going crazy.
But whatever. Tant pis pour moi.
By the way I posted some crappy cellphone pictures of Conor Oberst on buzznet. Thank you Leyla! I like this one; he's looking especially tortured there.