Four different people have come up to me in the last week and a half and told me that they had a vivid dream about me in which I was doing fabulous, fantastical things. ‘Cept one of the dreams was lame. It was Sonny from work’s and he said it was just the two of us, in a heated debate about he didn’t know what and I was so upset that I took off my glasses and rubbed my temples.
That makes me freak out that I’m like, unknowingly putting some sort of energy out into the universe that’s provoking people’s minds to spend time on me in their sleep. Like, their brains have unfinished business after our interactions so they’re takin’ it to the sleeps.
I hope it’s a good thing, like maybe I’ll win the lottery (even though I don’t play) or they’ll invent a litter box that doesn’t smell at all so I can get a cat, but I know to assume that it probably means I’m going to die shortly or something really awful will happen to me or everyone I care about.
But maybe it’s just because I’m so beautiful.