I woke up this morning violently angry at my mother-in-law. Why? Well, because in my dream last night we were shopping at a colossal Costco (think Idiocracy) and she went to pick up an empty Christmas tin from a massive, shoulder-high cardboard box full of empty Christmas tins. I told her I had three unused tins at home that she could have for free. She said thanks, and I happily started to move towards the lawn dart section. But then…THEN…she went right back to picking out Christmas tins anyway.
Can you believe the nerve of that woman?
Look at me! I’m getting all riled up again just thinking about it. I was so mad when I woke up that I couldn’t even talk to Rocco. I totally gave him the silent treatment until I peed, drank some water, and finally those last whisps of sleep disappeared.
Then I felt a tidge foolish.
First, it was a frickin’ $2 Christmas tin. Second, it wasn’t my money. Third, why shouldn’t a grown woman be able to buy whatever the hell she wants? Fourth, did I mention it was a silly $2 Christmas tin?
Oh right, there’s also that whole technically-I-shouldn’t-get-real-life-mad-at-someone-for-something-they-did-in-a-dream thing.
But I can’t help it! It’s genetic. Just ask my dad. That poor bastard has woken up to a swift kick in the ass from Mom on more than one occasion. Needless to say, he now knows better than to sneak off into a grassy meadow with Stephi Graph and spend the afternoon braiding daisies into her flowing locks.
The thing is, other than that dream about my mother-in-law’s round, glitter-encrusted, metallic boxes…and some weird dream where I was trying to write an article for ToyWithMe about using Super Soakers as sex toys, I don’t think I slept last night.
*thirty minutes pass*
Right. So. It seems I don’t have a witty way to wrap this up seeing as how I keep dozing off while staring at the keyboard. So I will follow the lead of the wise and eloquent Dr. Horrible and just say…
*faint sound of snoring*