I had apocalyptic dreams last night. I woke up a couple of times and when I fell back to sleep, my apocalyptic dreams continued.
The other day one of my friends told me she had apocalyptic dreams and I think the Greek Chorus in my brain thought: that sounds like fun! Let’s do that!
Dear Greek Chorus in my brain: Let’s try sex dream threesomes with George Clooney and Sam Rockwell. Or John Cusak.
During the first wave of dreams, I was running hither and yon with my dream compatriots and told one of them “Wait, I have to go to the bathroom.” Fortunately Non-Dream Lanna got the clue, and I woke up and skedaddled to the bathroom.
Now, a few hours later, the details are sketchy. Which is the way I like it. No need to remember those apocalyptic dreams, thank-you-very-much.
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