Last night I dreamt that I was in a stand-up comedy competition. I had some great jokes lined up! Except because they were dream jokes, I am now fairly certain that they did not actually make sense. I wish I could remember them. The only one I do remember, went something like this:
“You know those girls who are always looking to their boyfriends like, ‘do I look ok? Is it all right if I do this or that?’ They do this because their boyfriends are jerks!”
That one totally killed! The audience was rolling in the aisles. At least now I know I can always find work in my dreams as a stand-up comedian.
Last night I had a dream that Lindsay Lohan asked me to buy drugs for her, since I was apparently going by the neighborhood where she gets drugs. She even gave me a list of drugs she wanted. I only really read one of the entries on it, and it was written in binary code, as in “1011101”. I wondered what the hell kind of drug that was. The total price on the list (she had indicated estimated costs) was $14k. The dream also included every other neurotic dreamy neuroses I have in my dreams, which unfortunately are not blog-appropriate, or even waking-life appropriate.
This morning I awoke with a start and the unsettling realization that I’d had strange dreams. I tried to recall them before they faded and poked Brian, who was already awake. Immediately telling someone about my scary dreams tends to help dispel any lingering feelings of unease.
“I had weird dreams,” I said. “My best friend from high-school had had a daughter through artificial insemination, and the kid was somehow five. She’d named her Scotch.”
Brian said, “Strange,” and I went on.
“Then I had another dream where I was a younger member of this huge family, and I had to hide around the house, because if they found me they might hurt me. I was just scared all the time.”
“That’s upsetting,” Brian said soothingly. “Last night I dreamed we rented snowmobiles. We were snowmobiling everywhere. It was great!”
He added, “Vvvvvroooom-vroom! Weee!”
“Wow, that’s nice,” I said sourly. “My dreams are full of disturbing subtexts and free-floating anxiety, and your dream was all ‘We have snowmobiles! High-five!’ ”
“Well, the only one I could remember was.”
“Right. Probably the other ones were full of serial-killers, but you forgot them.”