My Brain Decided to Wage Psychological Warfare on Me
I guess life's been weird as fuck recently, and I just need a place to dump it all out before my brain implodes or something. Like, is anyone else out there having absolutely batshit dreams lately or is it just my subconscious trying to offload all the weird shit that goes on in my waking life?
So, let's start with last night.
In this dream, I'm in my old high school—despite having not set foot anywhere near that emotional trauma facility for the better part of a decade—and I'm naked. Not like sexy naked. Awkward, humiliating, "forgot-to-put-on-clothes-before-leaving-the-house" naked. And I'm desperately trying to find my locker which seems to have grown legs and wandered away. Shit you not, there's me, bare-ass naked in the hallway, chasing a locker that's doing a mean impersonation of Usain Bolt.
So yeah, off to a great start there, subconscious. Really helping ease my real-world stress levels with the old "public humiliation" standard. Cool, cool.
But it gets weirder.
Suddenly, there's this horde of seagulls—because of course my brain would just randomly insert an army of flying sewer rats into a high school scene. They're relentlessly dive bombing me, trying to pluck the fuzzy dice (don't fucking ask, I don't know either) I've apparently been clutching to my chest this whole time.
Like that wasn't enough to send my anxiety skyrocketing... then the big boss shows up. Big Bird from Sesame Street—Yeah, I know, fucking weird. But he's not normal Big Bird, he's like this warped, Lovecraftian interpretation of Big Bird with 30-foot neon yellow feathers and eyes that burn like the ninth circle of hell.
So, there I am playing a reverse-strip version of Harry Potter’s Quidditch with bin chickens while being chased by a possessed Muppet. So yeah, I’d say my dream life is going pretty fucking fantastic.
Finally, I jolt awake at 3 a.m., drenched in sweat and genuinely shocked that I haven't pissed myself. At this point, I just decide to stay awake because like, what the fuck, brain? Might as well browse Reddit to distract myself, right?
Fast forward a couple of hours, and my sleep-deprived, PTSD-addled brain figures it's a good time to send my boss an email about a pressing issue. Except, instead of my usual formal “Hello [Boss's name]” I somehow type "Hey Big Bird" and hit the fucking send button.
So now, in addition to sleep deprivation, fear of seagulls, a newfound awkwardness about Sesame Street, and the inability to look at my own naked body without blushing, I have to deal with the fact that I just called my boss a goddamned Muppet.
Yeah, I'm sure she'll have a hot second to laugh about it before she fires my ass. On the bright side, maybe all this free time will lead to a new career in interpretive dream analysis or something equally useless.
So yeah, that's my life right now. We’re teetering on the brink of sanity together, one awkward dream at a time. Thank you for coming to my fevered dream Ted Talk.
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