Uhhhhh…so last night I had a dream. Not this awe-inspiring-Martin-Luther-King-Jr, “I have a dream that we all be created equal” dream, either. But a wake-up-and-think-you’ve-officially-lost-your-last-marble dream.
I had a blogging dream.
Oh, it happened. I officially blog entirely too much. There is no more definitive evidence needed than now I am dreaming about blogging. It has wedged its way into my subconscious and even when my mind is at rest (as my computer gently weeps) and I am upstairs, in my pajamas, I am dreaming about Don of All Trades and Meridith from Faking Picture Perfect.
Oh, you just heard me right.
Mind you, I have always been someone that has weird, crazy vivid dreams. So I am no stranger to the bizarre nighttime image -I am a psych girl, after all- but I have never had a dream about any type of online anything. I don’t think there are even computers in my dream world, truth be told.
So here it is. The epic meeting of the trio that is the three of us as told by my wine addled brain in the middle of the night:
Scene: A party in a field (I can’t make this up, guys, I am simply not creative enough!) in the great state of Texas.
My blogging buddies are flying in to attend and I am all excited. Meridith shows up, of course, in that same little hat from her Gravatar picture. And she’s not drinking -because she’s Mormon and Mormons don’t partake of alcohol- so I am getting really bored and begging her to give up her religion for the evening (yeah, kind of sounds like me) and drink by the bonfire with me.
Then Don shows up.
Now, I don’t think I have ever seen a picture of Don…or at least, one I can recall…so in my dream he looks like a shaggy Indie dude- kind of like a bigger version of the lead singer of Oasis (Yes, Donnie Trades, you apparently are my Wonderwall).
Better than Mr. Potato Head, I guess…
He brings a friend with him that looks pretty Indie, too, and they are both already drunk. Good times. So the three of us are pounding down drinks and Meridith gets bored and wanders off, hat and all, to find some people that aren’t making a-holes of themselves, which we are at this point.
Then we jump into a car (where it came from or why we did, I have no clue, other than dreams are random and weird) and I’m yelling that we are forgetting Meridith but no one is listening. Don is driving like a maniac all over the road, past cops, and I think we are all going to die in this car but we’re all laughing like crazy people as we drift to and fro on the road as Don’s Indie rocker locks fly in the breeze.
Then I woke up.
Seriously…what the HECK, brain?! Where did my mind go there? I don’t know which part I was more entertained by…the fact that Don was an Indie rocker or Meridith’s hat (Sorry we left you at the party, girl! My dream-self didn’t mean it!).
Maybe I need to put the mouse down for awhile, folks!
Nah, we all know that is never going to happen, right?
Blog, blog, blog, blog, blog, blog
Until next time, when my blog interferes with my life and I blog some more about it! Speaking of which…I really should clean my house and take a shower… 😉
I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.