Sweet dreams are made of this

Last night, I had a meeting with my good friend sauvignon blanc. We had a nice, long conversation and when we were done, I had a very quick chat with my friend merlot, which was not a very smart idea. So when I woke up at 6:30 this morning, gasping and sweaty and CRYING, it took me a minute to figure out why I didn’t feel very well on top of the nightmare I had just woken up from. It was a bad nightmare, too real and dark and based around one of my biggest fears: the death of someone I love. Correction: one of my biggest fears is the death of someone I love by their own hand.

I stayed up for a few hours, surfing Tumblr and Facebook and watching The Office, and eventually fell asleep again. AND THEN I HAD THE MOST EPIC DREAM EVER.

Okay, so Electric Girl and I were on the Titantic IN SPACE (it didn’t crash though) and we landed on a planet that WORSHIPPED THE FLINTSTONES. They dressed up their planet’s equivalent of elephants as dinosaurs and carried big blow-up clubs and wore Fred Flintstone costumes. And then I was trying to help someone who had been captured by the aliens but then my dream diverted to something else — babysitting Jeremy Affeldt’s oldest son. I was trying to make him balloon animals and failing miserably, so Jeremy Affeldt came over to take over. I think he was mad because I wasn’t talking about Jesus enough.

I still love you, Sister Christian

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