you can tell i’ve been sleeping plenty this weekend. well, you could tell if i told you about the dreams i’ve been having. i can always tell when i sleep enough because then the dreams come, not all of them bad, they just come.

friday night i had weird nightmare type thing.

i dreamt the fam went out to dinner at some olive gardeny-type restaurant. we were all there– the sister club, mom and dad, the kidlings, aunt cappy and her kids. so there must have about like 15 or so of us and we were there having a grand old time, and when the bill came, we went to pay it. for some reason we were worried that we didn’t leave a big enough tip, so the fam sent me to go investigate. i went up the bar and asked the lady if we had paid enough. i had a fat pile of cash and checks and lottery tickets in my hand, to cover the tremendous bill.

she looked that the bill and said, “did you really order three fried ravioli appetizers?” we hadn’t and she was outraged, “i hate that kid,” she said about our waiter who happened to be Jake of 8bitjoystick fame. she set about figuring out our proper bill and i sat at the bar waiting for her. it was taking forever. FOREVER, and i was getting pissed.

finally i told her to forget it, that it didn’t matter. she was getting all lippy with me, and i took out a piece of paper and pencil to figure it out myself, but for the life of me i couldn’t do the math, she was nagging over me as i tried to subtract 61 from 207. i was pissed off and slapped her. as i hit her, i felt my nail dig into her cheek and she started to bleed. i started to cry because i felt so bad.

she said i would pay.

my aunt cappy came to the bar where i was trying to pay, and gave me a knife. “you’re gonna need this to get out of here,” she said. i thought she was crazy, and tossed the knife aside and got up to leave. i had to go to the front bar to get my bag and what not. when i got up there the bartender was a former-coworker named shirlee, she just laughed and said she wouldn’t give me my bag or my car keys. “you’re not gettig out of here in one piece,” she said. i was irate. then some big guys came and started chasing after me with knives. somehow i managed to make it outside and hide between two columns, hoping they wouldn’t see me. but then i realized the keys to ruby were in my bag and i didn’t know what to do. i must have decided to run for it, but the two thugs caught me and dragged my back into the restaurant by my arms.

i was sobbing hysterically because i really just wanted to get the fuck out of there. they tossed be into a booth in the back bar. the place was packed and i had no idea what in the hell was gonna happen. they made me go up to some boardroom and plead my case in front of the restaurant executives. the executives sat at a glass table, in a glass room, each one had a pixar-desk lamp looking imac in front of them. i argued my case and they didn’t say anything. so the thugs came back and dragged me back down into the bar.

the bar was still packed, with co-workers, bowlers, complete strangers, but filled with people. there was a stage and the bar owner was talking about what a bad, bad person i was. i got up to defend myself, telling the crowd that i all wanted was my bag and car keys so i could go home. i got out of the booth to walk around to each table, people started hitting me with staplers, swinging the staplers at me, so the staples would lodge in my skin.

as i marched about the room, i started throwing negatives and photos on the table. talking about how people had just had sex on those very tables. how there were underage girls and bondage night and what not, and how the owner wasn’t as pious and moral as he proclaimed. the crowd was suddenly in my favor and started cheering for me.

somone brought me my bag and my car keys.

then i woke up.