weirdddd....

I had the trippiest dream last night.

I won't bore you with the details but it involved JRS, Creighton, newspapers, bubble gum, Ginger Cove and me. Throughout the dream, I would comb my fingers through my hair, wondering why it was still long. Didn't I shave it off? Or was that just a dream? Or am I just dreaming now?

Essentially what the dream boiled down to was what the hell I am doing with my future, a question I refuse to spend any time with in my waking hours.

In my regular life, I would laugh it off with a few beers. But, in this beer-less Bizzaro world, perhaps I should spend a few of my sober days pondering the question.