Not the noble, Martin Luther King kind, but a dream nonetheless. I’ve figured out that I only dream in two situations:
1. While taking a quick catnap.
2. When I wake up in the morning, but realize I have another 30 minutes two an hour before I actually have to wake up, so I go back to sleep.
Today it was a #2 (don’t go there, sicko). Shari left for Michigan today…*whimper*…and I think knowing that she was leaving caused me to stir a bit more than I normally would when she woke up at like 6:30. I think I said bye and tried to get a hug or something, but I’m not sure. Apple and I just went right back to sleep.
So I have this dream that Tim Duncan, NBA superstar, is beating his girlfriend up. How I stumbled across this, I don’t know, but it’s a dream so my mind makes up its own universe. I got so mad at Tim that I pushed him and said something brilliant like, “Hey! What are you doing?”
Dream-world Ryan must have forgotten that Tim Duncan is 6’11”, 260 lbs. So Tim turns around, away from his battered girlfriend, and glares at me.
Okay, pause for a moment. When Tim Duncan stares at a ref, it’s the most intimidating thing I’ve ever seen. Imagine that I’m like every NBA ref combined. This is how Tim Duncan looked at me.
Luckily, there was a plugged-in iron that just happened to be plugged in behind me. I don’t know if I was in a hotel room or something, but I reached back, grabbed the iron, and applied it with heavy pressure at the rapidly-approaching Duncan. Dream-world Ryan smelled the burning flesh and watched in horror as his favorite basketball player’s face melted in front of him.
It was disgusting. It was horrible. It made absolutely no sense.
And that was the end of the dream. I have no idea why our minds work the way they do. How weird…
As you can tell, I didn’t feel like posting about political or tech junk today.