Sunday

No More Night Time Snacks

Really. I’m not sure what I ate before going to bed last night, but it must have been something odd or unusual. That is what causes odd dreams, right? Didn’t everyone get told as a kid not to eat the burrito and pizza casserole just before bed because it would cause strange dreams?

Damn, now I want a burrito.
And pizza.

Sometime around 4 a.m., William Shatner was looking for me. I was on a campus of some sort, milling about, watching the thousands of other people milling about, when someone walked up to let me know that Mr. Shatner was looking for me. He was getting ready to leave, and he wanted to hug me and give me his football jersey.

Well, of course he did… :::clears throat:::
Anyway.

It seemed perfectly reasonable that Captain Kirk (or Denny Crane, take your pick) would want to hug me and give me his football jersey. But before he could, I needed to shower.

So I did.

And then I needed a potty break.
So I took one.

Whereupon I found myself stranded in this communal bathroom, on the john, trying to figure out why there was a roll of thin foil Christmas wrap instead of toilet paper. This would not do. I was going to sit there until someone brought me a roll of TP. Good TP. Northern 2-ply double roll TP.

People came in, reminding me that Mr. Shatner was waiting to give me a hug and football jersey. Well, Mr. Shatner could just wait. I needed TP.

And I never ASKED anyone to bring me some.
I just sat there.
And waited.

I wanted to hug Mr. Shatner, yes I did. And I wanted that football jersey. But I needed the toilet paper.

I don’t know if I ever got it, or the hug, or the jersey, because some psychotic cat decided 5 a.m. was a good time to stand in the hallway and holler his fool little head off.

For all I know William Shatner is standing near a hillside at a college campus far, far away, waiting with jersey in hand, arms ready to encompass me in a giant Shatner hug.

No comments: