bad dream

ok. nightmare. 

sometimes i hate it when people try to tell me their dreams.  is that mean?  but you're my captive and now i'm going to tell you mine.  it's 4 AM and it just woke me up.  but don't try to analyze it.  i hate being analyzed.  unless your conclusion is that i'm completely emotionally balanced.  oh, and a super model.  then analyze away.

so i'm at this golf course resort place.  all schmaltzy.  you know, the kind of place you can imagine me hanging at...not.  and this very bad mean sleazeball guy is going to double-cross me.  he may be my brother or some sort of associate i can't remember now.  isn't that funny i said "associate."  i'm in a bad tv show. 

anywayz, he's a sociopath.  which reminds me, fascinating subject.  we'll have to talk about that later. 

so, the jerk shoots me.  but i survive.  actually, he completely misses me even though he's like 2 feet away.  i fake die.  he checks my pulse but i fake no pulse.  wow,  i'm good at this.  then he decides to do a little light reading in the next room and i have to keep my fake death pose for a long time which totally irritates me and gives me anxiety.  my dog is with me. she's not happy with the situation and is sniffing at me and whining.  i'm a little concerned that this will set the sleazeball sociopath off so i'm trying to maintain my fake death fake no pulse pose and keep her calm at the same time. 

finally he checks my fake no pulse one more time and does a maniacal little laugh.  then his high society low class girlfriend comes in.  she's all like, ew, dead body, let's go play golf and get hammered.

so they leave.  and then i realize my son, eli, is with me.  he knows i'm faking.  we have to plan a getaway.  we gotta escape to canada or something.  i get out of my fake death fake no pulse pose.  FINALLY.  i remember being all like, how long do i have to stay here like this.  i can't take it any longer. 

at this point i don't feel like a super hero who can get shot at close range and survive.  i'm really scared and i'm wanting a getaway coordinator.  an underground railroad.  a GOOD associate.  but i'm thinking, alls i got is myself.  so i frantically gather my shit together in the dark in the golf resort hotel suite.  we must have had some dough.  it was a suite.  and eli and i are like, let's head for the border.

and then i woke up. 

the end.