There is a length of wurst in front of you, and you eat it, and then it's behind you. There is a fifth of schnapps in front of you, and you drink it, and then it's behind you. There is warm bedding in front of you, and you sleep in it, and then it's behind you. There is a day or a night ahead of you, and then it's behind you.
I used to have the greatest respect for nightmares—for their intelligence and artistry. Now I think nightmares are pathetic. They are quite incapable of coming up with anything even remotely as terrible as what I do all day—and they've stopped trying. Now I just dream about cleanliness and food.