I had a dream that I was sent by young John Lennon to go back in time to his house for some reason (maybe he wanted me to house sit???) and I went in this machine and ended up at this really cool house and I just started going through EVERYTHING. I found letters between Lennon and Yoko Ono, awards the Beatles had gotten in the early 2000s that they must have time traveled to get, and all the records you could possibly imagine. Then for whatever reason my brother showed up and neither of us knew why he was there, and then we became obsessed with figuring out what year it was so I went outside and asked some kids and one of them was a smartass and answered, “It’s three thousand eleven.” No newspaper could be found in the yard, so I tried finding anything that could tell me the time but it was clear that there were many items in the house that were vintage AND modern, including the alarm system which was labeled “2009.” Young Paul McCartney then showed up and I felt embarrassed for taking a bunch of papers and photos and leaving them all over the place to go through later but he told me not to worry about it, “You have a right to know.”

I had a dream that I saw this crazy looking hairy spider creature and thought it wasn’t real but then it moved! I started to freak out and looked around the floor and there were even more of these things, except they had less than eight legs and were shaped like hermit crabs without any shells (and also hairy.) Someone said something about don’t worry, they’re harmless.

Then I looked at them again and thought they were really cute and asked what I should feed my new hairy hermits. “What should I name them?”

Oh, and yesterday:

Had this really bizarre dream where my house was way bigger than it is now, and some really sketchy people came over when we were throwing a party and they claimed they needed to go to the basement (which was HUMONGOUS) and that our landlord OKed it, and if we didn’t give them any problems, they’d pay us seven thousand bucks. So all my roommates got everybody from the party out and over next door (which was just a backyard deck away) and I stayed behind to see what was happening. When the strange group of people came back upstairs they were laughing maniacally with tons of cash in their hands. At this point I inferred that there was a bunch of cash buried underneath the house that these bitches took from under us, but then the one guy handed me seven slips of paper that promised “One thousand U.S. dollars” to turn in somewhere in exchange for currency. 

I stuffed the papers in my pocket and then this guy came over demanding to know what happened and where the money was. “They took it all,” I said. “Now get out of my house.” Then the guy swung a broom stick at my head and I tried to stay conscious for the three seconds before I went down, but I remember trying to stuff the papers down my pants. Then I foggily woke up and saw all these strange prop men placing children’s toys and furniture around, coloring them with crayons and markers and breaking some things to make it all look used. When I was able to get up someone informed me that there was a couple and two children that just needed to stay a week because they were actually homeless but needed to look like they lived here.

Later in my dream “day,” I showed up for a meeting and someone said something to me about how my duties were unnecessary and that I didn’t need to come. I got really offended and then one of my friends said something else that was really offensive. I told him he could “shut the fuck up and let me do my job,” and it started a really intense hostility in the room. Nara was there for some reason and asked if I really meant that, and I started apologizing profusely. Then I started crying and tried to explain how my house got broken into and I was knocked unconscious and the guy I yelled at just kept patting my head and asked if they did anything else to me. I told him no and then he decided he couldn’t forgive me still for being so rude.

When I got back home my roommates asked me if I got the seven thousand dollars or not which I totally forgot about. I felt my pocket and the slips were still in there. I told them they did give it to me, but the guy who knocked me out had taken it. They all just shrugged and I went back to my room, happy that at least through all the nonsense of the day, I secretly had enough money to pay my rent and then some for the year. 

I had a dream that there were two guys I was I guess thinking about dating over at my house. Of course, my house was completely different—more like my grandmother’s house in Florida with a back porch/dining room/etc. The one guy doesn’t say much, and his friend was with him, and he suggested we all go bowling. Well, the other guy I’m “interested in” is on the verge of a mental breakdown, being SUPER passive aggressive about the other two guys I have over. (Like damn, this was some ©  The Bachelorette shit.) So I’m trying to figure out a way to tell Dude #2 that we should probably just hang out on our own sometime (or maybe even never) but he won’t even let me get a word in and I realize my tolerance level has been surpassed. Then this guy gets in the face of my friend Jay, yelling and I sternly say, “Don’t you yell at my roommate! Get the FUCK out of my house.” 

And then he hustles and bustles away and waves goodbye, and I tell the other guy that we should still go bowling with his friend. At some point in this story I went down to the creek in the backyard and saw someone who recognized me from tumblr, gave her a hug, and invited her to come with us. 

Had a dream I was at some sort of GOP convention, except it was supposed to be a really friendly sort of gathering, nothing to do with the election. Mitt Romney did a toast and said something snarky about the presidency. In response, Newt Gingrich yelled, “NO MORE TOPICS!”

Immediately after everyone started bursting into drunken laughter, Stephen Colbert was on the red carpet talking to a camera, with his eyes lifted from a free make up enhancer kit he received at the event as a gift. “So now that the cat was let loose, I’d like to discuss my favorite topics…” was the last thing I made out before waking up.

I had one of those dreams that’s ridiculously vivid. So vivid that I actually wonder if it’s a dream while it’s happening and decide it’s not because of how real everything feels. This one was another tornado dream. I saw it out the window of my old dorm room building and made everyone climb the six flights down (which is a little weird because I lived on the eleventh floor) for safety. And when we got down there, people were just standing around outside, by windows, like idiots just watching as the funnel of destruction was approaching. I started crying and going on about how we needed to go somewhere away from the windows when someone started holding me in their arms to comfort me I guess, and I guess it sort of worked. I looked out again and saw some firemen attempting to “catch” the twister in a special device, and it was small enough to not be too strong, but there were other twisters coming and so I still didn’t understand why people were out there willingly.

Then I “woke up” (this seems to be a recurring thing, too.) I was laying in a big bed passed out with people to my left and one person to my right. I was closer to the person on the right and when everyone started waking up they were questioning why we were “close” on the bed, which we weren’t really. So then I retold my dream within that dream and even that was so real.

At least I always look for safety without fail when I see a tornado. It’s like I’ve been practicing in my sleep for years.

Really though, fuck tornadoes. 

Somehow managed a three hour nap where I dreamt of dreaming and woke up within a dream within a dream with some rich lady yelling at me, and me drooling and crying all over myself (within the dream, not actually.) This girl was worried about failing her drama class after we did a scene that I hadn’t studied, and neither had she. For some reason I adopted a New York accent and afterward someone kept asking me why I was attempting fashion suicide because I bought my dress at the theater and my reply was, “I wasn’t bringing a change of clothes.” 

The rest involved some road trip and lots of cigarette smoking. At one point someone was holding me and I didn’t mind that too much.

I literally fell asleep like a cat at the end of the bed. Which reminds me that I dreamed again that I woke up within my dream and two cats had come through my window and I was trying to get downstairs to feed them, but I was being told how irresponsible I was in addressing the situation.

When I finally, actually woke up I found a song half written and a coat as my blanket.

I had a dream (oh no, not again) that I was on Survivor, and it was my second time, and I was a villain and I won the shit out of this rafting contest and was in the final three to be voted to win a million dollars.

Then I had another creepy ass dream that my family (which was not my actual family) were all in the wrong bodies or some shit, and this one girl was trying to tell us that something was just not right, and then some uncle or something was trying to kill me with rat poison. And then there were a bunch of old people that were laying in a pile on top of each other but kept falling off their bed, but they were as thin as sweaters so it wasn’t hard to pick them up. The girl that kept disappearing/trying to tell us the truth was hidden in a dumpster but all that was left of her was her head and her foot (she was still alive), but I think that’s because Adventure Time was on in my living room last night and the whole giant foot thing fucked me up.

Um, drugs.

This is semi-gross but I dreamed that these captors (which were Game of Thrones folk) were holding me and some others captive and Eddard just FELL OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH when they kicked him out the door, but they had us holding onto this railing with a pool to fall into, which we all did. I was trying to sneak out through the side but some bitch I knew ratted me out and so I stripped out of my pants and told the guards that I had to use the bathroom really bad so they let me go to the bathroom and then I got away.

Next scene: I’m in a car practically sitting on the lap of the guy driving. I’m the tenth person in the car with a family of six kids, two parents, and a grandmother. When I realized I was sitting on the DRIVER’S LAP, I tried to convince the two girls sitting in the middle front seat to sit on my lap but they weren’t having it. Then I tried to tell everyone how I tricked my way out of escaping being killed but I don’t think anyone believed me, and if they did, no one was impressed.

“BUT I SACRIFICED MY PANTS!”

(They were a really good pair, too.)

I had a dream that this girl (who doesn’t actually exist) was into me and kinda fell on me and asked if I was drinking. (I wasn’t but at that exact moment I started to feel drunk.) Anyway, we made out and somehow made it back to a hotel room that wasn’t ours. In fact, Jeff was staying there with someone else who I don’t remember, and I was trying to figure out a way to get rid of this girl who I now realized was crazy. So I kept telling her that I had to go buy some cigarettes, but she wouldn’t stop clinging to me. I told her again that I needed to get cigarettes and alcohol because it was like 2am and I was completely sober. (And apparently way too sober.) Jeff was nice enough to offer alcohol but that wasn’t helping my girl situation. And then I left and bought cigarettes, and then smoked one, and didn’t go back.

The point of this may just very well be that sober Megan isn’t any better at picking winners than drunk Megan. Why am I telling you this?

I swear to god, there is so much detail in my dreams, it’s creepy. A lot of them take place in houses I used to live in—where I lived in Fort Pierce or my grandmother’s house in Port St. Lucie—and I look down because I’m getting dressed to go out and I want to wear heels but these tall black ones are going to hurt my feet, and when I slide out of them to put on shorter heels that actually belong to me, my toe nail polish is horribly chipped and so that’s not happening. I read an email from my kindergarten teacher and she asks if I can go in to help with her class and of course I agree but she never sends me where or when to meet her. I’m only guessing she still works at the same elementary school. And then I’m with a girl friend and some Asian guy (I guess they weren’t important enough to have names or real meaning) and we’re trying to run through this ridiculous parking lot that we had to take the elevator to, but we stop at a stand that’s selling cookies. Ten for a dollar, but it has to be the same ten cookies, no mixing it up. Trust me, I asked. So these two characters are done and leave and I’m asking the guy behind the counter what each cookie is and raspberry sounds to sweet, but maybe marshmallow fudge would be good? I tell the man to pick for me anything but one of those gross looking pink cookies and the one of course that he picks is not even baked yet, just dough, and the nuts inside remind me of the little ridged pieces that I used to build my Ikea desk. I’m looking for something else now in the refrigerated shelves and there are BABIES you can buy that are actually in an incubator and some are really little and some are one and two, but the two year olds aren’t that much bigger and I would totally go for a two year old, but the cupcakes in the next door over are probably a more realistic buy. Then at some point it’s past four o’clock and it’s getting dark out and I’m calling someone to pick me up and I wonder why I don’t have a car to drive, I mean yeah the van died, but I drove the Durango all last summer. I can’t remember how I got to where I am.

I’ve been dreaming of a stranger. I can never fully capture who this stranger is—just that he or she is significant in my romantic affairs. “Romantic affairs.” Guess I’m still a bit groggy. When I wake up, I have no narrative to fall back on, no words to cling to, nor image to re-imagine. Instead I’m left with this very vague sense of memory, much like the smell of vanilla making me smile about a different time that I don’t particularly have an explanation for. Yesterday morning I woke up to my alarm tone, which was simultaneously acting as a sound cue for fireworks. Not even literal fireworks, but that sort of celebratory metaphor for fireworks. My stranger and I were in love, or whatever the equivalent is that I’ve conjured up in my head as one of the not-so-few people in this world who’ve yet to experience that ultimate emotion. Today I woke up with a dropped stomach, leading me to believe that something went awry in this completely subconscious relationship. 

I can’t shake the daunting feeling that it was all my fault.

When I woke up this morning I had just dreamed a terrible scenario. I had to climb on this roof and sneak into this house in order to buy DRUGS. By DRUGS I mean marijuana mixed into a tea-like concoction (?) but there was a problem. When I was departing from this super-secret-illegal drug buy, a cop and my professor were outside. I was set up. And my professor was so disappointed in me. 

It was the worst.

I dunno how anyone could show up to class inebriated. I’m terrified of simply running into a professor in a less-than-sober state. This is a healthy fear I think.

Had a dream my mom trolled me into believing that I couldn’t go to Temple anymore because QSU had to change the time of their meetings to 10pm so as not to coincide with our school’s new MATERNITY CLUB. Then I was saying goodbye to my childhood friend (who was kind of awful then and lives a really awful life now) and her mom who was Courtney Cox in my dream. Except I totally knew that Courtney Cox was playing her mom? So I wasn’t sure whether to call her Ms. Cox or by her character’s name….

Then those bitches tripped over my laptop and it dropped just enough to not be able to go on the internet, so I took it to our computer services center which in my dream was the roof of a building, and it was dark outside. The lady was apparently also a tour guide and she told me it could take her up to 23 hours to fix my laptop because a lot of people wanted to tour the school at night. (?????)

It dawned on me at some point that HOLY SHIT I CAN’T NOT BE IN COLLEGE I HAVE NO PLAN AND I HAVE STUDENT LOANS WHAT ELSE WILL I DO???? My mom was all “lol jk.”

I was dreaming that my mom and I took a flight out to Philadelphia today (or technically yesterday, whatever) and I didn’t call out of work even though I was supposed to work a double shift, and then I came back the next day apologizing that there was a family emergency or some bullshit, I didn’t even really know why I didn’t call but when I was telling my coworkers they were all so mad at me and my manager let me know that my not showing up was considered a “voluntary quit” so I’m like throwing a temper tantrum similar to the time that stupid substitute in the third grade gave me lunch sit out ‘cause I was backin’ up her case but she said I was talking when everyone was supposed to shut up (and like, dude, EVERYONE WAS TALKING) and just like that time in third grade, in my dream I refused to leave until my punishment was taken away.

Then I woke up and it was 15 minutes past the time I was supposed to be clocked in. Way to go, Megan.

Way. To. Go.