Maybe I’m not so psychic
My dreams aren’t often the very realistic kind.
This morning I had a very real and very vivid dream that I lost control while passing a car on the highest interchange overpass of I-25 (top overpass is above two other overpasses and the highway itself). I lost control from the top one, and drove through a guardrail and into space. I thought to myself in the dream as I floated in midair a la Wylie Coyote and gazed down past three tiers of interchanges to the inevitable blacktop below:
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to die today. So this is how I’m going to die. I wish I had cleaned my house. Oh well, at least it will be quick and painless. I sure hope God forgives me and takes me to heaven.”
Then just before my car flipped upside down and hit the pavement, I woke up with my heart pounding.
I thought, “Oh my God! Did I just have a premonition? Is that how I’m going to die?!!!!”
Then I realized that last week I had a very realistic dream that I was dating Denis Leary, and he hasn’t shown up on my doorstep to declare his love for me yet. So until THAT dream comes true, I won’t be sitting around waiting for this mornings’ dream to come true.
Still, I really should clean my house…
I was gonna comment on this last night, but for some reason your RSS Feed was working and the actual blog wasn’t. Things are working now, so WHEE!
Anyway, this entry reminded me of this episode of “The Man Show” I caught once while channel surfing. The bit I caught was this faux commercial for a service for the ‘typical guy bachelor-type’ that would get notice as soon as the dude dies, then rush in to the guy’s apartment and remove all the porn and weird sex toys before his parents came over to clean his apartment out.
It struck me as totally genius idea! Ever since then, I’ve sometimes jokingly kicked around the idea in my head of starting such a service but not just for guys, for everyone. Wiccan with fundie parents who don’t know about your Goddess-worship? No problem! I’d whisk away all the altar goods before you’re even in the morgue. Secretly a dominatrix and your parents still think you’re a virgin? No problem! Your dungeon goods’ll be gone before you’re even in the urn. If I weren’t such a lazy ass, I’d probably be a millionaire right now.
Comment by Kim — Wednesday, August 3, 2005 @ 1:25 am