Doom Dreams

[Drunk Monk]

I didn't sleep well during our backpacking trip and almost every dream was about work. That pissed me off. Like really pissing me off. I spend all this time and energy to get away but my feckin subconscious brings me back to work? Dammit. 

I did have two distinct non-work-related dreams:

One involved Obama being violated by a giant mecha spider. That was messed up.

Another had me tagging along with a rich couple who bought an overpriced poster - so-called 'art' - and they were thrilled because there was a way to make the eyes of the figure move. I joined them for a banquet like dinner at a long formal table and at the head of the table sitting next to me is Natalie Portman. Natalie is only wearing leaves (the sort of leaves we used to wipe our butts during the backpacking trip - they weren't ideal because sometimes they had little holes but that was all that was available in the high country). As I chat up Natalie, she starts wrtithing and removing the leaves. Soon she is nekkid and I realize that she's rolling on molly, so I'm tasked to talk her down in another room. So I'm alone with a writhing nekkid Natalie in the throws of drug-induced ecstacy. I wake up too soon from that dream. Way too soon.