Boot camp, lobsters and the Vatican

On Valentine’s Day night, I dreamt that 3 of my coworkers and a friend were doing a boot camp style workout in the middle of the street – Connecticut Avenue at Dupont to be exact.  I remember that it was really hot and we were all really tired and sweaty.  I had stumbled upon a coupon that was for a free session if you brought three friends so I assume that was why my coworkers were there.  I’m not sure why my other friend was there as he is notoriously against all forms of exercise and would have laughed in my face for suggesting such an adventure.  Nevertheless, he was there. 

During a break in the workout, we were all told to go sit down at some picnic tables that were inexplicably in the middle of the street as well. I went to sit with my exercise-loathing friend and was introduced to his circle of friends who all turned out to be actors for Arena Stage.  (Note: I have never seen anything at Arena Stage in my life.)

The workout instructor called us all to action again and we jumped up and started with the sit ups and jumping jacks and lunges and the “drop and give me 20″s. 

After  a few seconds the dream shifted to the basement of a warehouse or something equally dank where I was a catering chef.  My workout-phobic friend was there again and we were hurriedly putting spicy tuna sushi on some little pieces of garlic toast. (My executive chef would probably have a field day with this gastronomic monstrosity.) 

We had constructed one tray of these little morsels when we heard some skittering around us. We looked around and discovered these 6 inch lobster/crab/insect looking things swarming around us and our spicy tuna.  We started stomping on them and they ran away.

My friend, for some reason, had this wonderful idea that we should invite these little creatures into the room so he had me hop up onto a sink and stand with my foot over the drain.  (Apparently, this was the way to summon the creatures.)  I did this and nothing happened. 

I decided that I no longer wanted to be a part of this game so I decided to leave the basement.  On my way out, I heard the familiar skittering noise and saw hundreds of the creatures making their way down the stairs.  I apologized to them for being in their way and opened the door for them as they ran into the room with the hors d’oeuvre. 

A few seconds later, I was walking down a street that looked and felt an awful lot like the street on which you line up to climb to the top of Notre Dame.  We were walking together and it felt as if we were being filmed for an episode of Law & Order – you know where Lenny and Mike are walking down the street talking about the suspects and the camera man is shooting them through an iron fence.  My friend told me that I was being fired for letting the creatures into the kitchen. I told him it was his idea, but he fired me anyway.

Cut to me looking on the internet at Fail Blog and recognizing an old friend in one of the pictures.  The photo was called Crouching Fail and it was a picture of my friend and her baby daughter standing together on top on a glass building.  They weren’t crouching so I’m not sure what the title had to do with anything. 

I suddenly realized that this was a live action shot and that my friend was right in front of me.  I started to follow her and we were suddenly in one of the painting rooms of the Vatican or Versailles (I’m not sure which one.)  I caught up to her and asked her where her husband was.  She pointed across the room and we continued to walk.  After a few steps I said to her “Isn’t it weird that we’re seeing each other in Rome in the Vatican?”  (I guess it was the Vatican but I definitely looked like Versailles.)  She shrugged and said “Sure.” 

We walked through a few more rooms before her daughter, now 4, began to run through the museum.  We frantically tried to catch up with her but it suddenly became an episode of Benny Hill. 

And then, like all of my dreams, it just ended.  No closure.  No final reel.  Just no more dream.   



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