Or more weird dreams. You know how I do.
Last’s night’s dream consisted of me singing karaoke. At some dive bar down the shore. Singing “Picture” – but with a bunch of dudes who worked as the set-up crew for a circus that was in town.
I woke up at 1:30 am, baffled for a moment. I finally convinced myself that it didn’t actually happen, and fell back asleep.
Weirdo.
ETA on Thursday morning: UGH. More dreams. This time, Will Ferrell was trying to PURSUE me. Like, as in DATE me. EWWWWWW. I realize that I am most likely in the SEVERE minority here, but Will Ferrell is one of those comedian-type people that I find WAY more irritating than funny (exception: Celebrity Jeopardy). So, this “dream” really was, in fact, a nightmare for me. He kept trying to be funny, in an attempt to woo me. He followed me into the bathroom of his small, 1970’s wood panelled house. And I wasn’t even trying to hide at that point. I was legitimately trying to PEE.
Poor form, Ferrell, all around.
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