My best writing warm-up right now is to write down my dream(s) from the night before. Then take the subject matter that I want to write about, and kind of mash it in with the dream, or just make up a dream sequence about my topic. Things will fly and change shape and say absurd and inept things, and make me nervous and ashamed and angry for no reason because then in the dream sequence, I start thinking about something else and go down this different path. Here's an exerpt from this morning's warm up. I didn't remember my dream to write about, so I made up a dream I could have had about my topic:

"... he was like this guy I met once at the Visiting Nurse Association in Boston. That’s the image I’ll go with. I met this guy at an office where I was working. He had a few kids with someone and had to drive somewhere a few hours away to get them for visits every now and then. He was cute, with brown hair and stylish sideburns. He was a very efficient worker, in fact, I felt kind of inadequate next to him, as he was churning out the paperwork like a news press. Fwip-fwip-fwip-fwip went the papers on his desk, all flying out like leaves being blown through an autumn street. And then we were in the Boston garden which was pretty near that office, on Newbury street. And the trees lining the streets all held these different colored rectangles with notes and paper on them, and there were the green-headed mallard ducks from the Charles, and they were perched in the trees, nesting in stacks and stacks of the papers. And I looked around for Larry, because he had told me his name, and I didn’t see him anywhere. And instead of Larry, there was this other person from the Visiting Nurse office—a supervisor, whom I don’t remember too well, but she was stern. What I remember about her is that instead of having sideburns, like Larry did, she had bushy hair stretching across her brow, literally stretching, as though a scant amount was glued there for a purpose, but there wasn’t enough of it."