Cultural Enrichment: Cracked Out Edition

Preface and Moral of the Story: Never eat a whole pizza and watch three hours of The Science Channel before bed. I recommend, however, watching The Science Channel in general – How It’s Made and Build It Bigger in particular. Gah! I tried to find a link for Build It Bigger and it seems to have vanished at some point in the last 6 hours. This night keeps right on getting worse.

I had a dream just now that I’d purchased my sisters and I season tickets to… something. We were waiting in the gym of our high school to be called up to the stage to pick up our tickets. Only when I got to the stage did I notice I hadn’t been given the ticket I needed to claim my ticket. Which really, seems to me like something that the high school gymnasium season ticket distribution company is to blame for.

Apparently this ticket-claiming ticket was the only shred of evidence I had to prove that I’d bought my season tickets (to, again, something of indeterminate nature). The “powers that be” refuse to give me a ticket, and I throw a fit, and some guy from work figures out a loophole for me to claim my tickets. Isn’t it funny how idiotic things make sense in a dream? I can’t remember the details, so I’ll give my subconscious the benefit of the doubt. Which, in this context, I have to say it probably doesn’t deserve.

The dream ends with me making a fast getaway from who I’m pretty sure was Kathy Bates, and my sisters are with me in my car, and my door won’t shut. Not only that, I’ve lost control of the steering and the brakes! Yet somehow the accelerator still works, and I continue pressing it. It’s alarming the number of my dreams that end this way. This one, though, has a fun twist: we crash relatively unharmed, and I’m telling the OnStar rep we’re ok (does my car have OnStar? of course not), and then I’m out of the car listening to the OnStar rep say she might be able to get me hazard pay. Even in the dream this made no sense to me, but as she’s saying it I look back at the car and it starts smoking — except now, instead of a car, it’s a single-prop airplane. Made of cardboard. Last thing I remember, I’m pulling apart pieces of the plane so it doesn’t all burn up.. “for evidence.” And then I woke up face-down, with both of my arms asleep at the shoulder.

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