September 27, 2006

Not Living The Dream

By the time I made it home last night, stumbled through the door with one of those Bluetooth things hanging from my ear that I make fun of other people for wearing, a conference call raging on with approximately .02% of my attention, I found a very sleepy and cranky baby and a wiped-out wife. "Burritos," I proclaimed, "burritos for all." Dinner without cooking or cleanup. Ahhh. Mia went to bed uber-early, I conquered Chipotle, we dined and caught a first season episode of Grey's Anatomy. The baby stirred, I rocked, the baby stirred, rinse, repeat as needed. Still on shaky legs of my own healthwise, I rested a bit, downed a final (knock on wood) shot of NyQuil and headed to bed.

On my way to work this morning, early though it was, I started having strange visions. I began stitching them together and came up with a rather incomplete yet disturbing dream.

I'm living in our two-story double-wide trailer with cathedral ceilings and crappy appliances. And there's a gas leak (dun dun duuuunnnn). The gas, somehow, is visible and it swirls around the trailer like that water-creature thing in The Abyss. Then it did the unthinkable - invaded the massive habitrail we had set up so that all of our various guinea pigs (total count unknown) could move throughout the house. The gas, still all swirly, focused on the highest part of the habitrail and sucked those little guinea pigs right out through the ceiling. So of course, after this stunning disaster that not only hit my stunning trailer/mansion (tansion? mailer?) but the rest of the small town in which I resided, leaving vast power and guinea pig-outages, I ran to man the grocery store which, by a strange turn of events, I also managed. And boy was there pandemonium! Apparently in the face of such a disaster, the entire town needed a snack. I did what any true hero could - I opened up one of the lines and started checking motherfuckers out. And damn if I wasn't speedy. To ensure calm, the staff sang showtunes whilst helping people out. It did the trick. So did the evil eye of Today Show movie critic Gene Shalit (who I've regularly confused with movie reviewer Gene Siskel, who has, sadly, left his aisle seat for the great cosmic multiplex). Shalit, complete with big-ass (and disturbing) porn 'stache and bow-tie, looked at me, winked, and pointed ominously at the giant watch he was wearing. I took this as a sign of impending doom and checked people out double-time. That is, for good or bad, where the dream ended.

And - poof! - here I am, at work. Sometimes it's a relief to realize you're not living the dream, you know? That particular one, at least.

Posted by Chris at September 27, 2006 7:25 AM
Comments

are you sure it was NyQuil that you downed? Sounds like a bad trip man. Also, you forgot to put "70s" before porn 'stache. Granted, I haven't seen any porn in ages and ages but I can't quite believe that (besides Ron Jeremy I mean) anyone would be sporting one of those bad boys nowadays. At least I hope not.

Posted by: pea at September 27, 2006 7:46 AM

Um, wow. I think there was something besides NyQuil in that bottle!

Posted by: Alissa at September 27, 2006 8:01 AM

You have great, detailed dream recall like I do. Sometimes I stand in the shower in the morning repeating "what the fuck?" over and over again as I remember the dream from the night before that probably included tornadoes, topiary, cream of wheat, and a pinata.

Without benefit of nyquil (big fuckin' Q).

Posted by: Nicole at September 27, 2006 8:06 AM

put down the niquil (fun as it is)

Posted by: Pamalamadingdong at September 27, 2006 8:23 AM

I am sad due to the fact that there was no Hookers, midgets or goats in your dream. Any dream with those three is worth living.

Posted by: Bill at September 27, 2006 8:26 AM

Lay off the Nyquil buddy. It appears you don't have the head for it!

Posted by: Maribeth at September 27, 2006 8:36 AM

God I'm glad someone else has bizarre dreams - but I'm also glad Gene Shalit hasn't appeared in mine yet.

Posted by: Heather at September 27, 2006 8:48 AM

That's definitely a strange one! I think that Gene Siskel could possibly scare the shit out of me if I were to ever meet him, because he definitely doesn't mince words, ever.

Posted by: Jessie at September 27, 2006 8:59 AM

did you actually follow thru with my Havana Club Rhum medecine recommendation?
Seems like it, Have a fun day at work

Posted by: DavidR at September 27, 2006 9:04 AM

Honestly? I took some NyQuil last night and slept like a baby, so I don't know WHAT you were downing, buddy. Come clean. I'd like to know what it was you drank so I can avoid having Gene friggin' Shalit in my dreams.

Posted by: Fraulein N at September 27, 2006 9:06 AM

You may have stumbled into a new fad or something: Rather than drinking themselves stupid or imbibing in other unsavory activities, underage college students could simply follow a meal at Chipolte Grill with a shot of NyQuil?

Posted by: Betti at September 27, 2006 9:18 AM

Sounds like you definitely switched the Nyquil out and had a little robotrip. :P

Posted by: Hope at September 27, 2006 9:27 AM

Okay...I'm thinking that the Habitrail is highly symbolic. I just don't know what it means.

Posted by: wordgirl at September 27, 2006 9:40 AM

I think East Coast NyQuil must be stronger than West Coast NyQuil...

It does kind of seem like it ought to Mean Something, but I'm not sure what.

Posted by: Kate the Shrew at September 27, 2006 9:46 AM

but the real question is...what did you think of Grey's Anatomy???

Posted by: ali at September 27, 2006 9:50 AM

Hey, I emailed you your dream analysis. It's interesting but I didn't know if you were into sharing it all point blank. This way you can take what you want from it.
Good Day!

Posted by: BID at September 27, 2006 10:16 AM

Dude, I live for MY Gene Shallit dreams. Colour me jealous!

Posted by: andy at September 27, 2006 10:57 AM

Yay! A burrito in every double-wide. Hey, we have free Chipotle day tomorrow at my place of employment. We are all very excited.

Everybody gets rich managing the local grocery store.

Posted by: Hannah at September 27, 2006 11:00 AM

Hmm...Chipotle. We have discovered a secret menu to that place. Chicken quesadilla. It's not on the board, but they'll make one. And it's AWESOME! They even have it programmed on their cash register!

You and me, man. We'd better share the secrets to have some vivid, crazy ass dreams. I had one about being Justin Timberlake's personal friend the other night...long, LONG story. :)

Posted by: oakley at September 27, 2006 11:24 AM

tansion.

definitely tansion.

Posted by: s@bd at September 27, 2006 11:44 AM

Ah, bad Nyquil trip, I've heard about those ;)

Posted by: Kate at September 27, 2006 11:45 AM

My goodness. And totally "tansion."

Posted by: Queen of Ass at September 27, 2006 12:18 PM

hmmmmm are you sure the aliens didnt suck you up? You know just a thought I mean, are you sure that your not actually living in a program, yah a program. Which pill did u take the green or the red? Wheres Morpheus?

Posted by: CJ at September 27, 2006 12:43 PM

I think Sparky spiked your NyQuil. Or your coffee. Or both.

Posted by: candace at September 27, 2006 1:41 PM

It kind of reminds me of something Stephen King would write about, for some reason. Trailer/mansion, indeed! :)

Posted by: Zandria at September 27, 2006 1:42 PM

Now, when somebody asks for a description of what "medicine head" is like, I have a place to point them. Thanks for that.

Glad to hear you are (knock on wood) better at least.

Posted by: Latte Man at September 27, 2006 2:18 PM

you're not supposed to chase the NyQuil with vodka.....So my kid caught your guys cold....shes all stuffed up and cranky too. Thx! cyber-germs......lol....feel better.....

Posted by: Mad Mom at September 27, 2006 3:15 PM

I had a dream last night that I was talking to Marie Osmond about her divorce. I don't know why. It was about as scary and intense as yours.

Posted by: Sijbrich at September 27, 2006 3:53 PM

Stephen King or Clive Barker fan? That would do it (with a little help from Nyquil).

Posted by: ann adams at September 27, 2006 4:32 PM

Dooooood! You're trippin' balls!

Are you sure you weren't at this party?
http://www.knottyyarn.com/archives/2006_07.php#000955

Posted by: krystyn at September 27, 2006 5:34 PM

Mmm, Chipotle. We have to go to the other side of the state to get those. Here we have Qdoba, which is very similar but in my humble opinion not quite as good.

Dude, NyQuil's the nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so you can rest medicine, not the funky-ass dream medicine!

Posted by: Beth in StL at September 27, 2006 9:11 PM

Okay, step AWAY from the Nyquil. Slowly, slowly...there. That's better now.... ;) Wild dream, though, seriously...!

Posted by: Haley-O at September 28, 2006 12:53 AM

HA! Gene Shalit...Marie Osmond...could it be Imogene Coco now remodling the double-wide?! Nyquil--that's shit's powerful.

Posted by: kristen at September 28, 2006 6:54 AM

Damn. I need some NyQuil and burritos. I've had a real shitty sleeping experience lately. Not from being sick, but from the fact that my back hurts like a bitch and the heating pad isn't cutting it anymore. Off to the chiropracter...again.

Posted by: Michelle at September 28, 2006 8:18 AM

Dude, I'm telling you, I have the craziest Nyquil dreams. That's what that sounded like to me.

Posted by: Melissa at September 28, 2006 6:43 PM

I think it's safe to say you've had too much Nyquil...

Posted by: SMIT at October 1, 2006 9:30 PM


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