Have I told you about my whacked out dreams as of late? No? Well, have I got a doosie of a psychoanalysis puzzle for you, my friend! And we're off.
Several nights ago, it started with me waking in the middle of a dream wherein Alyssa was hosting/throwing a parade (of course) which was kind of Romper Room style and everyone ended up in a giant pit of large, multi-colored foam pieces which we were all jumping in (of course). But I was on cloud nine during the parade/Romper Room because at the beginning of the parade Alyssa announces via loudspeaker (of course) that Kate Hudson reads my blog (again, of course). So here I am, head as big as Nebraska because if Kate Hudson likes my blog then it must be good, right? And this realization was shored up throughout the dream by friends of Alyssa/old sorority sisters of hers kept coming up to me to worship my literary skills.
I awoke so happy only to quickly return to cold, dark reality and was sorely depressed that not only am I not 1 degree of separation from Kate Hudson but she also doesn't read my blog, nor would many many people be worshipping me anytime soon.
Marc Summers says "Double Damn".