BESTIAL seasons, seasonal beers

And it was just that strange, too: a psychiatric disorder, ontodormichosis, in which the patient can't tell the difference between waking and dreaming life. It wasn't a problem, obviously, when she was asleep: We all mistake the imagined for the real then. The problem was when she was awake and started mistaking reality for dreams. Then anything -- a ringing cell phone, say -- could fill her with such unutterable dread she'd hurl herself at a plate-glass window or a dead-bolted door to get away from it. Or a child's toy could bring on spasms of hilarity. Or a meal might inspire such fury she'd find herself smashing plates against walls. In short, "real" things took on all the symbolic import of dreamed ones -- and so, as you can probably guess, it wasn't long before