Feb. 16th, 2007

Nande..

Feb. 16th, 2007 09:05 am
I had many strange dreams. In one there was a psychokiller who killed people becaue he heard voices telling him to. Half the dream was in his head from his POV, and half was from watching a documentary/movie about him and trying to figure out which psychokiller he was. I forced myself awake in the middle of that one, realized all our lights were on (my roommate leaves the lights on for some inexplicable reason... I know that she sleeps more restlessly when they're on, but she leaves them on when I don't turn them off, anyway, which fucks with my sleep so bad... the brightness of warm pools of sunlight are mitigated by their warmness; the brightness of flourescents? not so mitigated)

So, yes, got up to turn off all the lights, then paused and was like "Damn, do I want to go back to bed in the total dark with that kind of dream?" And left one on. Yes, I'm lame XD.

Then I dreamt I owned an ice cream parlor. Originally it was going to be a smoothie shop/ice cream parlor type thing, but we ended up setting up next door to this really really popular smoothie shop called "Pan Am" (yes, like the airline, but that association didn't exist in the dream). So, before we'd even gotten handles on all the cabinets or every ingredient in stock, we opened. Unexpectedly we got crowded with people, but after talking to some of the customers it seems most of them had just mixed us up with the place next door.

One customer-lady was really, really annoying; Pan Am, apparently, had a mascot with the same name. She, for some reason, had thought that Pan Am had closed, renamed itself, and moved next door to our shop, and that we were Pan Am, and kept trying to order smoothies. When it was finally explained that "Look, Pan Am is next door", she started shouting the praises of Pan Am the mascot, and was all like "He can even forge fire! In fact, he could do it RIGHT NOW!"

...and it was like, "Okay, ma'am, calm down and stop making up shit..."

So, yeah, dreams, stuff. I left out a lot of details, but do you really want to hear of my search through the cabinets for the non-existent brownies? The infamous tales of my forgetting orders and therefore grabbing a pen and a napkin? My Forgetting of the Bowl?

Nahhh.

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