Yup. And?
Last night an old friend of mine decided to drop by. Now this guy is one of those assholes that has no understanding of timing; he drops by whenever he feels like it, not when you're free to entertain. In this case, his visitation coincided right as I was heading to bed.
But being the gracious host I am, I humored him as he inflicted a night of near sleeplessness on me. His incessant ramblings prevented me from achieving a good night's rest. It was until a little past 3 am that my good buddy packed up and left. Never mind that I had to be up at 5:30 am to begin my day. So I think I managed maybe 2 hours of sleep; really, I had a nap rather than a night's sleep.
Thanks for dropping by, Insomnia. It's always a pleasure.
As you can imagine, that wasn't really an awesome way to start (continue) my day; all the speed metal on the interweb couldn't give me enough pump to lift a glass of water, let alone drag my sorry cadaver out of bed. But being the incredible individual I am, I managed to carry on and shamble off to work.
"So what does this have to do with the compelling (and stolen) title of this blog post, Darren?"
I'm getting to that.
Anywho, I was again for all intents and purposes sleepwalking at work, and it showed. My clumsy attempts to do such intrinsic activities like walking, and sometimes, breathing, both amused and frustrated my fellow processing drones; conversation limited to slurred half-sentences, the slow, blunderous efforts at un-boxing the useless junk we sale, and reflexes so graceless that an obese elephant would mock them all made for a fantastic day on the job. I guess. I don't know, I wasn't really awake for any of it.
When it was finally over, I happily (sleepily) skipped (stumbled) my way back home for a day of productive job hunting and writing (staring blankly at a monitor with drool leaking down my chin as I tried and failed to remember which button was the "a" key).
Then I decided to take a nap.
Oh, I know what I wrote in my last blog post. But you see, the guy who wrote that was Past Darren. And Past Darren is an asshole. He has no idea what I have been through today; I stood staring at a tree for ten minutes because it looked pixelated. For a minute there I thought I had sleepwalked my way into someones Minecraft session. So yeah, next stop: Nap Station Central. It was Nap o'clock. The main course was sleep with a side order of nap.
 |
| So life-like. |
And so it was that our hero did indeed nap. And it was glorious.
Except for the Nightmare.
Oh, what? You thought I was done rambling on like an insane person? Well to use the familiar vernacular of our times, "Lol, rofl, and lmao!" Noooooo, I've just begun to ramble. For you see, I managed about 40 minutes of sleep before I woke in a pool of my own sweat (and possibly urine) because my insane brain decided to visit Freakish Visions of Horror and Madness upon me.
"Oh, so that's why you choose (pinched) that title from the esteemed Stephen King! And that explains why you've been spewing gibberish at us like Daffy Duck mid-rant with his mouth full!"
I thought that was plainly obvious at this point in the game. Come on, Castle, keep up.
In this Freakish Vision of Horror and Madness, I was with some people I don't now recognize, but in true dream fashion, it made perfect sense for me to be BFF's with them. There was some kind of party we were planning on throwing for another phantom friend that I don't really know. We went for supplies (booze, alcohol, and liquor. And Pop-Tarts) and when we got back to the dream house, we found all of the other party goers dead. Horribly dead. Dead like Amanda Bynes' reputation.
If that wasn't enough, one of my phantom dream friends had the brilliant idea to use a magic spell to reanimate the party-goers so that the fun could continue. And, I guess, help clean the mess up when it was all done. I don't know; dream logic is shaky at best.
We all proceeded to drag the bodies into a big pile, for reasons that I'm glad I didn't conjure in my fevered absurdity. A second phantom dream friend produced from a backpack a thick, leather bound book. Opening it with a dramatic gesture, he began to read (babble) words from an arcane language (Happy Potter pseudo-latin). The sky opened up and a hellish beam of green light smashed down into the pile of bodies. One by one, they moaned and arise to stand before us, their empty eye sockets aglow with the same green light.
And then the phantom dream friend spoke more gibberish, and I began to sweat wasps.
You read that correctly. I was sweating wasps. And they begin to sting me. And my phantom dream "friends" laughed at me as I screamed in terror and flailed about like someone covered in wasps. Hell, even the zombies let out a dusty chuckle here and there.
And then I woke up, all thoughts of ever sleeping again eradicated.
Yeah, sounds like a Dreamscape Nightmare.
ReplyDelete