Suddenly, all of this was happening inside my grandfather’s house instead of outside. 

Next, I was in a fancy dress at a theater which was located inside of a mall.  We were watching the performance when 8 of us (including the director or the play and an old coworker) needed to go to the bathroom.  We jumped up at the scene break and ran out of the theater into the mall and past an Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand.  After we finished we tried to go back into the theater but were each turned away at the door, including my coworker who was wearing a gold lame dress with “who dat” written on the ass.  (I know exactly where this came from: during the Marine Corps Marathon on Halloween I spent about 5 miles running behind a girl in this exact outfit.)

After realizing that we wouldn’t make it into see the rest of the show we started to walk around the mall. A mall that, much like my hometown, consisted of a few shoe stores, the aforementioned pretzel stand and one restaurant.  I’m 99% sure that this “mall” was a replica of the “mall” in downtown Silver Spring, MD. 

After walking around I realized that I wanted a beer so I headed back to the tiny concession stand near the theater and ordered a Blue Moon.  As I reached for my purse, I realized that I didn’t have it with me.  I remembered that I had left it in a store and frantically ran back to grab it.  I saw it on the back of a chair and saw that not only was it open but there was $7 in cash sticking out of the top of it.

I ran back to the concession stand and repeated my order. 

“Oh” said the older woman behind the counter who looked a little like Jay Sherman’s make up artist from The Critic.  “Can you fax your order to me?” 

“Um, what?” I said.

“I need you to fax your drink order to me. The something something something isn’t working” 

“But…I’m standing right here.  Can’t you just give me the beer and I give you money?”

“No.  You need to go back to the bus and fax the order to me from your bus.”

And I woke up thinking about Mitch Hedberg trying to buy a donut.

The marathon was set in my home town and much like a previous running race dream, much of the marathon was set inside various buildings around town.  The difference with this dream marathon was that instead of following a group of runners, I was following a map and the map lines were also written on the ground beneath me.  So naturally, I got lost somewhere near the Jr. Swine barn at the Wood County Fairgrounds**.  I kept looking at the map and at the ground but the lines were so tiny that I couldn’t tell which way the arrows were pointing.  People kept running into me left and right. 

**I would post a link here to the Wood County Fairgrounds website but there isn’t one.  Just imagine a large open space with a bunch of cow and sheep barns.

Suddenly, I was in a play.

Just as suddenly, it was two and a half hours later and the play was over and I was back in the race.

Somehow, even though the race was throughout a full city, there was an announcement telling us that the roads would start to reopen to traffic in the next hour and we needed to hurry up.  “Great” I thought “I’m only at mile 12! There’s no way that I can run 14 miles in an hour! How did I mess the timing up on this? I should have been able to run the race and act in the play all within 6 hours! 5 plus 2.5 is totally 4! I should have 2 hours to spare.”

I was so upset that I ran to my parents house (which is actually down the street from the Wood County Fairgrounds and the Jr. Swine Barn) and told them that I would meet them at mile 10 (yes, going backwards here) in 10 minutes.  Mile 10 was in the high school parking lot which can be seen from my parent’s living room window. 

Then I ran to a costume rental store which looked more like this giant thrift store that I went to Maryland one time.  I was frantically searching through the racks marked “sparkly” for the perfect costume (that I can only imagine was a crazy ringmaster with Barnum & Bailey).  I found it in the rack and was soon wearing (with my running shoes, shorts and D-Tag timing chip) a white Oxford shirt with yellow paint streaks, a green sparkly sequined vest and a red sequined dinner jacket.  But the pants!  What could I wear for the pants?? Blue bell bottoms, of course!  I ran over to the rack marked “ugly pants” and flipped through pairs of acid-washed jeans, cropped acid-washed jeans, acid-washed jean shorts, acid-washed harem pants and two pleather shirts – one brown, one green.  These may have been in the wrong section. 

Oh fuck! The race!

I ran out of the store in my sequined outfit (to which I had at some point added a pink tutu) and started to run again.  Somehow, instead of the marathon, I was in the middle of the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.  Thank god I was wearing a pink tutu!  Again, the announcements started blaring that we only had a few minutes left to complete the race and I realized that I was still over 14 miles away from the finish line.  I dropped to all fours and tried to run but it was basically like I was a dog running on ice.  Nothing I was doing was working.  I couldn’t run at all. It seemed familiar.

Suddenly, I was sitting in my dad’s van with my parents and sister and I was telling them about this dream.

And, of course, like all of my dreams, it ended when a cat jumped on my face.

Never took acid but it might be like cable or network TV. 

I did this for you readers.  You’re welcome.

Suddenly I was at a day care center or an elementary school where the class was getting ready to watch a PSA.  This particular PSA came with a disclaimer: “Some of the images may be unsuitable for people who don’t like chocolate.” Then the video began.  It was like a bad trip with multicolored chocolate candies and children ripping the ears off of white chocolate bunnies.  There were fireworks of chocolate and people running around yelling and crying and eating. 

And then everything went blue. 

This is what happens when CVS screws up your prescription.

Anyway, last night, I had a dream that I was the props master for a theatrical production with an awesome theater company in DC.  For some reason, we were performing at the Kennedy Center.  Husband and I were trying to organize everything to make it to the show on time but it was already 8:17pm – 17 minutes after the play was scheduled to begin.

Suddenly, I was on a guided tour of my grandparent’s old house with my running buddy and his husband. We were coming around the outside of the kitchen which had a door I had never seen before.  As we walked past the door there were two very artsy guys in the kitchen sitting on a sofa I had never seen before.  As we walked past the window, one of the guys (who I had never seen before) jumped up very excitedly and opened the door for us.  I walked in and kissed him on the cheek and said “man, I do not want to go back to that tour!”

Just as suddenly, I was standing in the guest room of my own house talking with my mother.  She asked me where the grandparents were and I said that Dad’s parents were sitting in a living room somewhere and her mother was on the tour with my cousin Lauren.  As if watching a flashback or dream sequence like Zach Braff’s character did on Scrubs, we could each turn our heads to the side and we could see my grandparents in one room and my grandmother and cousin on the tour which was now inside a small movie theater. 

The next scene was me in a large auditorium with incredibly ornate white walls. I know that I was there for the Kennedy Center’s Mark Twain Prize but I couldn’t figure out why everyone else was there to see Hot Tub Time Machine. 

Boss Lady told me that I had forgotten something back at work so in my black tie silver dress I ran through the streets of DC (looking exactly like the area near Grand Central Station in NYC) back to the Kennedy Center.  Magically again, I was back in the theater trying to get everyone to leave th building.  There was a large family who were eating their Sunday dinner in one corner of the audience who just looked at me blankly when I told them the night was over and it was time to go home.  In another part of the theater was a group of – how should I say this – Larry the Cable Guy fans who were all wearing cut off flannel shirts and trucker hats.  They told me they were waiting for Tina Fey to arrive and I told them in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t coming because she didn’t like them. 

**In the interest of full-disclosure, I gave blood in the middle of typing this post and can now no longer remember what happened at the end of the dream.  In this case, I leave you with this. Enjoy!

“No there isn’t” he said.

“There is! I can see him” I replied, growing increasingly more frustrated. 

“Stop!  There isn’t anyone here!” he replied, growing increasingly more annoyed that I had awoken him from a dead sleep with my yelling.

“I can SEE him!  I’m turning on the light.”  Angry and sure that I would prove my point, I flipped on the light. 

We both blinked in the sudden brightness.  Nothing.  There was nothing and no one there.  There never is.  And yet I was so sure!  I always am. 

I don’t blame Husband for being irritated with the situation.  He’s been living with it for ten years.  I’ve been living with it for longer but when I’m alone in bed, I don’t have to apologize to anyone else for ruining their sleep. 

Since I never know when it’s going to happen, I always warn house guests and hosts that if they hear me screaming, they should just ignore it…you know, unless it lasts for longer than a few seconds, then maybe they should lock their door and call 911. 

I take medicine daily which is supposed to suppress these “visions.”  I take Ambien almost every other night in hopes that I can fall and stay asleep.  I don’t drink coffee or soda.  I exercise.  My doctor tells me that I could take GHB and just completely knock myself out (no really, it’s a real treatment) but something about that makes me, oh, I don’t know, a little nervous.  But it still keeps happening.  Not as frequently as it did but still enough that everyone in my house gets annoyed.  Even the four-legged family members. 

So what do I do? I laugh at it.  I laugh at myself. I tell people my dreams with an air of humor because, in the end, there’s not much else I can do.  And if I didn’t laugh at it, I think I would be the most miserably exhausted person that I know.  I don’t want to be that person, so I laugh for real. 

But sometimes, just sometimes,  I wish I could dream about Jon Hamm my husband every night.  That’s something I wouldn’t mind waking up to.

So I joined the rest of the class and stood in the middle of the circle. First, the intern coordinator started saying things to me.  “Nope!” I replied smugly.  Frustrated, he gave up and went to the outer part of the circle.  Next the catering sales manager came up and said “Alchemist Cabana!”  “Purple!” I replied.  Everyone was in shock!  Applause and laughter. 

Vanessa pulled me aside again and told me another phrase to listen for: What do you think about health care in the US?  I had my response and walked back to the circle. 

Suddenly, I was running frantically through a small not-so-safe town in the middle of the night.  I jumped a fence and ran up to a shopping center where the third shift workers were outside having a smoke.  They all looked at me strangely as I ran by.  I saw a Target but upon closer inspection the door said “Wal-Mart.”  “Target FAIL!” I thought to myself, “I gotta get a picture of that.” While I was running, I pulled out my iPhone only to realize that all of the workers were staring at me.  One of the workers started to break free of the group and he began to chase me.  I couldn’t get away!  I tried to punch him and kick him but none of my hits connected.  I ran to a fence thinking that I would jump over it but saw that it was covered in barbed wire.  I ran along the fence until I reached the clearing where I was having my acting class. 

I stopped and turned around.  The guy was nowhere to be found.  I started to run back to the shopping center, determined to take the picture of the Tar-Mart (or Walget if you prefer.)  Again I ran around the building pulling out my iPhone as I ran.  I stopped and took a picture just as our intern walked up to me. 

“Do you know those people?” I asked.  “Yes” he said.  “Did you see that guy chasing me??”  “Yes.”  “Well why didn’t you do anything?!” 

Suddenly, I was back in the circle where apparently the acting game had been running for quite a long time.  There were very few people left and Vanessa was staring straight at me.  “What do you think of health care in the US?” she asked.  “I’m for it” I said.  She looked at me pointedly as this was not the correct response.  “What do you think of health care in the US?” she asked again.  “….I….uh….I’m sorry!  I can’t remember the answer!”  I said sheepishly.  “It just took so long that I forgot what I was supposed to say!”  I felt so guilty that I had ruined the game until I looked around to see that it was just Vanessa, me, and some random old dude. 

“Well…” Vanessa sighed “I guess we all can’t be as good as me.”

And then I woke up.

I ran like this for a while until I saw a small deli.  I ran into the deli (on all fours) and saw that they didn’t have cranberry juice.  I thanked the man behind the counter and continued on my run. 

Suddenly it began to thunder – a quiet, constant rumbling thunder.  I began to come back into the waking world to find this sitting on my head.  Good morning!

I then asked him “are you here for the entire episode?”  “No” he said “this is just a cameo.”  ….”Denis Leary?” I said “Isn’t it weird that they would hire you for just a cameo?”  “Maybe” he replied.  We smiled and I started to walk on. 

Suddenly, behind me, I heard a commotion and turned to find my very flamboyant friend, M.R. standing in the doorway of a repair shop flailing around.  He was dressed quite impeccably in skinny black pinstripe pants and a black button down shirt, but obviously upset about something.  I ran up to him to find that his arm was completely broken.  (The same side as the Denis Leary Crow had his bandaged wing.) 

I told him that we had to go see a doctor and I ran back to the Denis Leary Crow to ask where was the near hospital.  Denis Leary Crow told me that the town didn’t have a hospital but there was a vet’s office just up the street.  I asked him if they would take a human and he said “Yes, if there’s also an animal involved.”  “Denis Leary Crow, will you be the animal?”  “Sure” he said. 

I ran back to M.R. who was now dancing around as if everything was fine but had somehow found a cast in the meantime.  I grabbed his good hand and pulled him back up the street to the vet’s office.  It was midnight but for some reason the office was fully staffed.  But the door was locked.  I banged on the door and said “Help! Help!”  The receptionist ran to the door and let us in and I said “My friend needs an x-ray!” She led M.R. back to an exam room and told me that there better be an animal involved and I said there was and that he was outside.   

I ran back to Denis Leary Crow’s stoop only to find that he was gone.  Frantically, I ran back to the vet’s office and told them that I had lied and there wasn’t an animal involved but M.R. was already in the exam room so could they please take him anyway?  “Did you see the crow outside?” the doctor asked.  “Yes” I said. “Could you understand him?”  “Yes.”  “That’s strange, he normally doesn’t talk to strangers.” 

Suddenly the scene shifted and I was in the backseat  of a car in what felt like a heist movie.  Everyone in the car was very tense and the man in the front passenger seat was finishing up directions on what we were supposed to do next.  We all agreed as the driver parked the car.  On the count of three we all jumped out of the car and ran towards another repair shop.  The lighting above us was yellow and hazy. 

As we ran into the shop I got the distinct feeling that we were the “good guys” which was further cemented as we rescued a little girl who had been kidnapped by the “bad guys.”  We grabbed her and her teddy bear and ran back to the car.  As we congratulated each other on a job well done, the end credits began to roll with the repeated sounds of the iPhone’s “Marimba” alarm setting.

Magically, I’m out of the car running up and down along the sidewalk (which looks more like the sidewalk near my hotel in Paris than it does a busy Manhattan area.)  It’s very quiet and dark with only yellow porch lights to light my way.  Someone else is with me and we see a small blue sign hanging above a doorway.  We realize that this is where we are supposed to be and run up the stairs. 

We get to the second floor and we are in the hallway of a church where my Sister and Brother in Law had a performance in a one-act festival in Chicago.  I yell out “Hey, I’ve been here before! This is the right place!”  only I’m not recognizing it as the church but rather as the place where my former coworker, KK, took her GMAT…from a dream that I had about my former coworker taking the GMAT. 

I see what looks like a magazine rack full of standardized tests.  I hear the administrator yelling that the test is about to begin and we need to take our seats.  After confusedly looking at the tests again, I grab what is supposed to represent the GMAT but those are definitely not the letters on the top of the test.  (I think there was a ‘C’ involved but I can’t be sure.)

I run into the room and take a seat.  The administrator tells us to begin and I look up and it’s Dr. Mallard, Ducky, from NCIS. 

I look back at the test and nothing on it is making sense.  I flip hurriedly through the pages until I start to see pictures.  I check the boxes under the pictures randomly until, as I’m flipping the page, a particular photo catches my eye.  I flip back to it and, sure enough, it’s a picture of my friend’s cats cuddled together on my sister’s couch.

The scene changes and I’m now in a classroom at my university that I used to clean on third shift during my senior year when I was a janitor.  I stay here briefly as I leaf through the test one more time.

I hear someone walk into the room and the scene changes again to the green room of the summer stock theater where I spent 8 long weeks in 2001.  I look up (because I’m now laying on the floor) and see my sister.  I whisper to her to come over.  She does and I say “Don’t tell anyone I’m showing you this, but look!”  I show her the picture of the cats and she shrugs and says “Okay.” 

At this point, I actually wake up because I’m nervous that my mouth guard for Bruxism has fallen out.  I touch my mouth and realize it’s still there and start saying to myself “GMAT. Ducky. GMAT. Ducky. GMAT. Ducky.” as a way to remind myself of my dream so I can write about it on my blog in the morning. 

I fall back to sleep and dream that I am at my computer writing about the GMAT. And Ducky.