This morning before my alarm went off, I was dreaming about being stung repeatedly by a big black scorpion in an abandoned sewer system while chasing after John Stewart and his book-writing guest, as is my wont. It became a lot like an episode of the Deadliest Warrior where someone was doing a play-by-play of how a fight between me and a scorpion would go down. Basically: I got stung a lot, and it hurt, but you would expect it to.
It didn’t teach me much, aside from it’s best to avoid angry scorpions, but it did make me realize one thing.
The morning before, I was dreaming that I was explaining the price of a piece of merchandise to a customer, by indicating the clearly printed label directly above the object in question. They refused to believe me. Our argument went on for quite some time.
Somehow: that dream was WORSE. Yes, a glimpse of my daily life is somehow more frightening than being stung to death by scorpions in a lonely sewer.
Honestly, I’m just not enjoying myself, if I ever was.
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