Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Strange Days
I've been having really weird dreams again lately. Last night I dreamed that my sister drove the new Corolla off a cliff after getting lost on the way to our church. She was fine, but we got into a big argument over who had to call the insurance company and our parents. I also dreamed that I was on Oprah, but no one would tell me why. I was really hoping it wasn't going to be one of those crappy book club episodes. And it was the fat Oprah, by the way, not the thin one. Not that that stopped me from trying to make out with her.
And as we fade into the grey days of autumn, I have to admit that daily life is starting to seem more and more like a dream. I wake up when it's still dark out and stumble to the gym with my crazily unkempt hair and green track pants, rocking the "crazy homeless person" look that's so popular with the kids these days. The day crawls by in a haze of shockingly tame office gossip and mind-numbing legal minutiae, with only a trip to the all-you-can-eat salad bar or a coffeeless coffee break to divide things up. And by seven pm it's dark again, making bedtime seem like a moral certainty and any hyjinks like they're simply existing on borrowed time. Fall is, after all, a season of decay and death, which frankly makes me question the motives of all you sick fucks out there who claim to actually love it. That cute little crackle of the leaves beneath your feet? That's their death scream, people.
Anyway, the world's a great (and a terrible) place any time of year, but I always find these transitions sort of surreal. As for the bizzaro Oprah dreams, those are pretty much a constant, not to mention definitely sort of hot...
I've been having really weird dreams again lately. Last night I dreamed that my sister drove the new Corolla off a cliff after getting lost on the way to our church. She was fine, but we got into a big argument over who had to call the insurance company and our parents. I also dreamed that I was on Oprah, but no one would tell me why. I was really hoping it wasn't going to be one of those crappy book club episodes. And it was the fat Oprah, by the way, not the thin one. Not that that stopped me from trying to make out with her.
And as we fade into the grey days of autumn, I have to admit that daily life is starting to seem more and more like a dream. I wake up when it's still dark out and stumble to the gym with my crazily unkempt hair and green track pants, rocking the "crazy homeless person" look that's so popular with the kids these days. The day crawls by in a haze of shockingly tame office gossip and mind-numbing legal minutiae, with only a trip to the all-you-can-eat salad bar or a coffeeless coffee break to divide things up. And by seven pm it's dark again, making bedtime seem like a moral certainty and any hyjinks like they're simply existing on borrowed time. Fall is, after all, a season of decay and death, which frankly makes me question the motives of all you sick fucks out there who claim to actually love it. That cute little crackle of the leaves beneath your feet? That's their death scream, people.
Anyway, the world's a great (and a terrible) place any time of year, but I always find these transitions sort of surreal. As for the bizzaro Oprah dreams, those are pretty much a constant, not to mention definitely sort of hot...
