Jiggs typed well into the night. He was tired, but excited. A well designed study to prove his theory would require a couple thousand pairs of top quality socks. At the current price of such socks, the cost of lab socks would total about ten thousand Ḱlupies, some of which he could recoup from the sale of ballpoint pens to the campus bookstore. He would of course need two research assistants at five thousand Ḱlupies per month, for a total 240,000 Ḱlupies (Ḱ240k) for a two year long study, and so it went. By the time he reached about Ḱ3M, he realized just how tired he was and decided to turn in for the night. He could finish his grant proposal over the coming week.
It took Jiggs a long time to fall asleep. Everything he had ahead of him in the coming days kept washing through his brain. When he finally fell asleep, he tossed and turned for a bit, and then started dreaming. He and one of his research assistants were in the lab washing a load of socks in an old wringer washer like his great grandmother, MeeMaw had. The research assistant started feeding the socks through the wringer, and Jiggs reached out to check the color of the sock. It bit him hard on the hand so that he was unable to escape its jaws. The wringer then pulled sock, Jiggs and all through its rollers.
"Eeeeow!" Jiggs writhed in the bed and became completely entangled in the covers. Beelzebeth woke up with a start and sat up in the bed, "What's wrong Jiggs?" When Jiggs finally awoke, he thought he was indeed in the wringer of his MeeMaw's old washer. After Beelzebeth helped to untangle him, and he told her the dream they went back to sleep.
Tomorrow's problems could be solved tomorrow.