A day in the life...

The other night, I'm at H.E.B. in the Vintage.  For those of you outside of Texas (or Mexico) that's a pretty darn awesome grocery store.  So cool, in fact, I take visitors there to check it out.  Ask Bethany.  Anyway, I'm in the parking lot, riding this really awesome beach cruiser-style bike with those big old handle bars and banana seat.  It might have had a basket, I don't remember.  It's an eerie, inky black outside, except for a few parking lot security lights and I'm kinda cruisin' around the parking, making figure eights, like it's my mission.  I suddenly make a bee-line for the corner of the lot, next to the exit, and go up this little hill, that I swear was never there before.  Suddenly, I'm riding through thick sludge that resembles green and yellow frosting, though in the shape of blades of grass.  It's really hard to peddle through, but I truck on, because it must be done.  Out of no where, I start to hear a high-pitched, menacing cackle, very similar to the laughter in Call of Duty: Black Ops Zombies.  As I turn the bike, I notice two girls I went to high school loading groceries into a black SUV.  They were a couple of years ahead of me in school, and one of their names escapes me.  They look at me with disgust as I try to frantically get through the sludge.  The laughter and darkness is really starting to scare me.  Lurking just to my left I suddenly spot Biscuit, my brother-in-law's Chihuahua-looking dog who weighs about 10 pounds and has the craziest spike-y dog hair cut you've ever seen.  She has more of an underbite than usual and has three yellow, snarly teeth sticking out of her bottom jaw, almost long enough to touch her nose.  I realize that the cackle is definitely coming from her, although she's being sneaky about it, so the girls don't know it's her.  I'm shaking by now, terrified this little mongrel is going to snatch me up and the girls are looking at me like I'm an idiot.  I can tell they recognize me, but can't remember my name either.  Since they're watching me now, I know now is my chance to escape Biscuit.  I make a break for my right, exiting the parking lot onto Center Street, right across from Rock Springs Honda/Toyota.

Now this is the point where my subconscious and my conscious mash up and I realize something is wrong.  How the hell did I get from Houston to Rock Springs, Wyoming in one turn?  Ah...a dream.  A crazy one. And one that is a sign that my husband has been playing too much Call of Duty.  And one that I had such a hard time going back to sleep after, I felt I had to share it.