Apr 26, 2010

Dream Hangover

The sleep I had last night is comparable to dog vomit. It was one of those nights that you are consciously aware that you are in the bed trying to sleep but you know you're not. Instead of being in a sleep coma - which I love - I was slightly awake, slightly drowsy, kind-of-sort-of sleeping. I woke up every hour or so, looked at the clock and thought "Wow. I've got some more time to sleep." Then I would go back to sleep - if that's what you call it- wake up again an hour later and think "Wow. I really don't have that much more time to sleep. Sleep dammit! Do it!" Then I had horrible dreams. It was the one where I hear someone is knocking on the door and it is so damn real that I can't tell if I'm dreaming or it is really happening and my mind is just trying to secretly work it into the dream. Deep down I know that the person knocking on the door is a baaad person. I know this is going to be grizzly. Sure enough, he comes barreling through the door (in my dream my boyfriend opens the door without a crazy weapon that you pick up on the way to the door. Which we all know any of us would grab a bat, knife or go all Joan Crawford and grab a wire hanger to ignite fear in the unwelcome visitor). Needless to say, the boogieman bursts through the door with a gun and holds us both hostage for days. We try to escape at one point, only to be caught. When we are caught, we both know the consequences will be astronomical. True. I am forced to have a long crochet needle poked through my gums. ???WTF??? Where does my subconscious come up with such evil things? Plus a crochet needle would never make it through your gums. Duh. The second part of punishment for trying to escape is that we are demanded to eat a sandwich that we had to make with peanut butter and those pixie sticks - you know the ones with the sugar stuff down in the stick? Thinking about it now, that kind of sandwich doesn't really sound all that bad. But at the time I was balling, thinking "How am I going to eat this horrid poison?" Around about that time, I woke up. Whew. Just think. I might not have ever escaped and would have been forced to eat candy and learn to crochet with my own torture device. Yuck.
Anyway, the point I am trying to get to is that I am unbelievably tired. I'm on my second cup of coffee and pondering having yet another bagel. Food will give me strength. Bagels are the breakfast of champions. Poo. I'm going out to my car to take a nap.


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