Tuesday, March 04, 2003

I had a recurring dream last night. I was at a picnic, sitting outside with two very attractive men I'd just met. There was a beautiful French girl that everyone loved at first, but once they realized how drunk and uninteresting she was, they walked away from her. The French girl came to sit at my picnic table, though she didn't join our conversation. Eventually, the French girl passed out across the table. I felt her pulse and pronounced her dead. We moved tables, though we left the girl where she had fallen over. We continued out conversation. Time went by. We called the police. When they arrived to see the girl slumped over, they wanted to know why we waited a week to call them. We didn't have an answer.

I kept waking up to this dream, probably five or six times last night. Kim, from work, analyzed it for me. She said I was the French girl who had been hurt for a week and felt like nobody cared about my injuries. Well done, Kim. Where are the two very attractive men who wanted to talk to me all day? I'll exchange my associates' apathy for them.

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