I had the dream again. The engine of my car was stolen. I lifted up the hood and it was gone.

At work we have a giant stock pot. Its got all the parts of the animals we don’t serve up directly. The chickens’ feet, necks and back. Pork feet and heads. My friend who fries the churros has the job of straining the stock, and then dumping the remainder into always jammed compost barrels behind the restaurant. He found a compost barrel on the first try, and that means good luck for a week.

My self needs more sleep than most. And when I need more sleep than usual, I turn to a product called a relaxation brownie. It’s sold at 7-11 down the block under the name “Rastafarian relaxation brownie.” The thing gives me the sleep. It’s like dunking your head in a river of slow moving chocolate, as Louie C.K. recently put it. The main problem, small, is feeling very angry at being awake, for the entire next day. Still, it’s an ideal way to wrap the work week.

The thing delivers real dreams, too. Last time I had one, I dreamt I was out to sea, fishing for crabs. The ocean was alive and wild and frightening. In the dream. I cried and begged the captain to return me to shore. In the dream. Then in the dream I realized that crab fishing was what I had always wanted to pursue, and hell, I was already out at sea, doing it. Living the dream (Rastafarian relaxation style) per se. So I decided, in the dream, to keep going.

The next day I woke up, at first peaceful and slowly turning very angry, at being awake. I drove down to 26th St on the South Side for the celebration of Mexican Independence. It was mid afternoon. The parade was long over, but the streets were blocked off by cops as far as the eye could see. I parked and walked in. People were relaxing (Mexican-American style) on their stoops, in their yards, with their friends and families. The cops ruled the empty streets. Whereas in Cambridge I feel everyone would be out there too.

The next day I woke up, less angry, and drove to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. A twenty six mile walking path encircles the lake, cutting through the backyards of all lakefront property owners. I walked that path too.

So you are probably wondering “why the feet?” Everybody wants their feet rubbed. What is wrong with that? It is not really a problem. The thing is that this right here takes on all the load. It takes on everything and there is definitely an old saying that old horses, when they injure themselves, the only reason you shoot a horse is because it can no longer stand on it’s feet. Their feet have, or their hoofs have trigger mechanisms to jump start their heart, just like our feet.

Our feet have trigger points within them that are attributed to different organs in the body, and like I said, without the feet, there is no way you can stand, there is no way you can keep your body upright and it just takes on so much stress and strain. The great thing about is that there is not too many muscles in the feet, it’s all tendons and bone and different things like that. So the muscles that are in the foot are definitely effected. So, we are going to focus on the muscles in the feet and the organs in the feet.

-Alexson Roy, courtesy of eHow.com’s About Trigger Points in the Feet