In My Brain While Sleeping… Lady Problems (And How)!
I always loved how the Little Rascals were such small scamps. I don’t know where I was going with this, so onto the dreams!
I don’t watch The Bachelorette. I’ve seen The Bachelorette and The Bachelor, but I don’t watch them with any regularity. Or irregularity. For all the drinking and crappy eating I do, I’m surprised at my regularity.
Anywhocaresaboutjakeandvienna, for some reason while in slumber, I found myself as a participant on the one-chick version (way to go subconscious…) with this Bachelorette (way to go subconscious?):
She’s a pretty girl, no doubt, and in the dream she was in different to me (way to go subconscious again). As she was sending away one of the other bachelors, that guy started bawling. He was seriously gasping for air he was crying so bad. I started making fun of that guy with a few of the other contestants, and they whooped it up while she approached from behind me.
I made a remark along the lines that I would probably cry too, and she overheard. From then on out, she paid all kinds of attention to me, thinking I was the sensitive type (which I am when watching movies and TV, but not so much in real life) and that they were all meanies. I don’t know if I won, but it left me wondering this:
To win this game show, do you need to score?
In the other dream I had, I met Lindsay Lohan.
- I had the chance to talk with her, and through hours of lunchtime discussion, she had a breakthrough! She was going to change her life! She cried (though not as bad as the guy dumped by the Bachelorette), and we went to meet her mom, Dina. Somehow, my words sliced through to the core of their being, like a hot knife through butter, or a hot knife through a chest for that matter.
They thanked me for helping them heal, and I felt great.
It was when I awakened that realized in reality, they were both co-dependent, delusional, coked out whores, and that no one could ever help them, let alone me.
Inside, I kind of felt like this: