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It can't be just me
Jun. 30th, 2006 | 05:24 pm
where I'm at: In the messiest house ever
headspace: humiliated
noise: New Pornographers "Wild Homes"
I had the most humiliating experience today.
I'm in the staff room of a place that I occasionally work at, and a bunch of us are talking about what we dreamed last night. I blurt out (in my usual way), "Yeah, I had one of those dreams last night where I was a guy, and I was walking down these stairs and..."
And I realized that everyone had gone completely silent. Staring at me as though I'd suddenly pulled a live lobster out of my mouth.
"Uh, how'd you know you were a guy?" the Science Officer said.
"What?" I come back with, all kinda non-plussed. "You don't ever dream that you're the opposite sex?"
Do I even have to go on?
Shit, it's like working with a bunch of marmots some days.
Have to go on, don't I?
"So, I'm a guy, right? And I'm walking down the stairs..."
"Do you dream you're a guy often?" the Project Assistant asks, all ferret-y.
Tonight, I'm going to the casino and I'm slamming back so many La Maudites that I'm going to be speaking some kinda language that isn't French and isn't English, but that it me just slobbery drunk talk. I'm doing research. Honestly, it's a nice casino: Place where Dean gets laid in Cirque de Céline , so I may even get kicked out.
Maybe I'll have a dream later on, but this time I'll shut the fuck up about it.
I'm in the staff room of a place that I occasionally work at, and a bunch of us are talking about what we dreamed last night. I blurt out (in my usual way), "Yeah, I had one of those dreams last night where I was a guy, and I was walking down these stairs and..."
And I realized that everyone had gone completely silent. Staring at me as though I'd suddenly pulled a live lobster out of my mouth.
"Uh, how'd you know you were a guy?" the Science Officer said.
"What?" I come back with, all kinda non-plussed. "You don't ever dream that you're the opposite sex?"
Do I even have to go on?
Shit, it's like working with a bunch of marmots some days.
Have to go on, don't I?
"So, I'm a guy, right? And I'm walking down the stairs..."
"Do you dream you're a guy often?" the Project Assistant asks, all ferret-y.
Tonight, I'm going to the casino and I'm slamming back so many La Maudites that I'm going to be speaking some kinda language that isn't French and isn't English, but that it me just slobbery drunk talk. I'm doing research. Honestly, it's a nice casino: Place where Dean gets laid in Cirque de Céline , so I may even get kicked out.
Maybe I'll have a dream later on, but this time I'll shut the fuck up about it.