You know, I really shouldn’t take long naps in the afternoons. I get really, really effed-up dreams. This is a little compilation of some of the highlights:

In one dream, Chris and I were living in a rental house, and he wanted to test how flame-resistant everything was, so he kept trying to set the curtains and lampshades on fire, and see how long he could leave the oven on. I had to beat out the fires with a wet blanket, because Chris had used up the fire extinguisher playing “snow party” with the guys from Russian House, who had all decided to move in together again after college, and shared a yard with us. After putting out the fire, I informed Chris that we probably wouldn’t get our damage deposit back for this. He got really pissed about that, and threw a tantrum.

In my next dream, I was at the Midway YMCA (an old, dilapidated city Y where I learned how to swim, and had to stay in kiddie prison camp… I mean… daycamp.) Anyway, I actually have a phobia of swimming pools, thanks to the Midway YMCA swimming pool. So I attempted to conquer my fears by going in to the pool area, but when I got to the pool area through the communal shower room, (I saw waaaaay too many unshaved/pierced/I don’t even want to guess vaginas in that shower room as a vulnerable youth.) someone from behind pushed me into the pool area, and locked a door behind me. It was terrifying. The pool had dilapidated to the point where there was only one light left working in the deep end, and since there were no windows in the pool, the rest of the place was pitch black. Like, you couldn’t tell where the water started, or how to get out. I finally managed to get out via the men’s locker room, and found my way back to the lobby to find Chris. Chris, for some reason told me that he wanted to have a party there, and when I told him I was terrified of the place, he told me not to be such a pussy. I got really mad at him for that.

My final dream was me waking up as a seven year old, and being carted off to YMCA day-camp. (Are we seeing a trend here, folks?) We went on a field trip to McDonalds, but while the other kids and I were standing in line, I got tackled, and carried away by a huge black man. I was taken back to the kitchen, where I was put in a barbeque-sauce-filled vat with the other day campers. When I told the other kids to run away, they all said I was crazy, and that they all still wanted to see how chicken McNuggets got made. Let’s not even TRY and interpret that one.