Wild Nights, Bad Craziness - justin_guber

Wild Nights, Bad Craziness

So I went out drinking with my colleagues last night. Another round of bonding. The only slack about it is the fact that I had to go back up to do some work after it. I'm not too sure what advice or what comments I made about the work I was doing with the AD in my drunken state, and am now both curious and supremely worried. What if I asked him to plaster the poster with nude chickens? Not good.

But it was when I got home when things started getting bad. I had another one of my bad dreams again.

You ever have a dream that is so upsetting it wakes you up? I've had dreams where I was so scared it woke me up, or so intensely wrapped up in the throes of dreamworld passion that I woke up, but being so saddened by a dream till it woke me up? Hmmm.

Actually, I can remember one or two instances. But I can't remember whether it was the sadness that woke me up or I just woke up when I was supposed to. Those other dreams seemed longer, like I had to watch the whole thing on my black and white mind (yes, my dreams are in black and white. I never knew you could have dreams in color until someone told me. Yet another reason why I often feel like I am a freak experiment). But this one was just... depressing. And I was in it. I forced myself awake because if I stayed in the dream any longer something very bad would happen (although I now doubt how bad a bad thing could be in a dream. Unless those Sandman comics are telling the truth).

And what was the dream? Well, it involved someone very close to my heart, a local celebrity I contacted recently, and me, no sex involved. It was totally a rollercoaster of emotions, with no hanky panky (there may have been, though, if I stayed in the dream). Not too sure whether I feel like writing it down here. On the one hand, I'm afraid of forgetting it. Often I remember my dreams by writing them down. On the other hand, it still kinda bugs me, and I don't feel like typing it out right now (Diana, if you're reading this, remind me to tell you about the dream. I trust you more than some of the pictures-of-goats-searching motherfuckers out there).

And lo, I woke myself up from a depressing dream, and it was 7.45am, much earlier than when I usually wake up. My bones are now aching in the air-conditioning, as it always does after I go drinking, and I can still taste the Carlsberg and muruku in my mouth. The colgate did not do its job.

On another note, out of the drinkers last night, myself and Adrean are the only ones who've come in so far in the office. Even Eddy's not here yet. He's always here early, where is the fucko? Shit, wasn't I supposed to pass him glasses last night? Can he see? Is he wandering around his house Stevie Wonder style, screaming, "where's the flush!? Where's the fucking flush!? I can't SEE!!!!!"

Maybe not.

6.8.04 04:05

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