I had one of the most disturbing dreams last night, but before I share with you my recent trauma, there's something you must first take into account. I'm what most would call a lucid dreamer, and I don't mean to toot my own horn, which, I might add, I'm also awesome at and try to fit in at least 3 to 5 times a week. ( Keeps the system running smoothly. )
Anyway, in my usual dreams anything and everything is possible. I can fly at will, although I prefer to hover, I can speak foreign languages, and becoming invisible are just a few of my capabilities in the dream state. Let's just say, the numerous exciting adventures I have had over the years while I sleep, would put James Cameron to shame.
In the past, I have shared fart jokes with Quan Yin, I've had a more than friendly relationship with Jesus, ( Elton's wrong ) and most importantly, I have become the sole proprietor of the very first and only casino/karaoke beam ship in which I named "Elvis in the Sky."
Now, on to last night. It started out as a somewhat normal dream, I'm being my usually efficient self peddling my Raleigh with my Heelys to the Mall of America to visit Lego Land. I hide my bike in the shrubs adjacent to the massive building and head inside for, what I thought, would be a productive afternoon.
Once inside, I noticed immediately that things have changed since my last visit. I couldn't find Lego Land no matter how hard I tried. The mall was an endless confusing maze of department stores and restaurants, and what was probably a few minutes in real time, seemed like an eternity in my dream. I gave up quickly on finding my utmost enjoyable destination and just wanted out. Day had suddenly turned to night and I still couldn't find an exit out of the nightmare, stores were closing and I became afraid of being locked inside forever. I started to panic, and the maze became a endless array of escalators and moving sidewalks, criss-crossing over each other. I would decide on one, and just end up where I had started.
Finally, I saw a man. He looked a little like Mitt Romney, but didn't move like a robot, so I decided to follow him. We jumped onto a huge platform that took us down to a lower level that was totally unbeknownst to me, but suddenly the platform stopped and dumped us off about twelve feet above the floor. I was fine, relieved even, I could finally see a way out. Mitt was pissed and went on to complain at the customer service desk. I bid him farewell and escaped out the door. Little did I know that the worst had yet begun.
Holy sheet, where's my bike? I realized that now I needed to walk around the perimeter of the mall in order to find it. Sure, it sounds easy enough, but it quickly turned into pure hell. I encountered multiple unstable ladders to climb, and had to scale huge concrete walls as I slowly worked my way around the massive building. My Heelys were useless in the grass, and my hovering skills were unexpectantly on the fritz. I am ashamed to report that I gave up on the search of my most beloved 10 speed that I've had since the eight grade. I easily haled a cab, and at that very moment I climbed inside, I finally woke up.
I'll tell you what, it may sound like just a dream, but I've never felt so much shame, and I only hope that in the near future, when I re-read this, I'll understand what it all means.
