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Another Tidbit from the Virtual Bank Line

This time I dreamed that I was at a big retreat with my entire team from work. And my sisters. And the kids I used to do daycare for. We were at Marlon Brando's house in somewhere that looked like Sedona. Everyone had their own little bedroom that had a tiny little twin bed in it. My boss went into his room, did not remove his clothes or shut his door, wrapped himself in a quilt and passed out.

I went downstairs and was herding my daycare kids, putting fresh diapers on them, washing their faces, etc., because it was pick-up time. They were cranky and tired and we ended up in a big huddle on the living room floor, snuggling while we waited. It was nice. They left with their parents just as a whole lot of girls (about 16-18 years old) in expensive party clothes came through the room. They were having some big weekend party and they were all excited. I went around picking up the little bowls of cheerios that the children had been eating as snacks.

I went up to my room, passing my boss's room on the way. He had fallen off his bed and lay sprawled out on his floor, still asleep. I went into my room and opened a cupboard. It had a fancy sort of folding tile door, which opened onto...another fancy folding tile door which I couldn't open because there wasn't enough room to open them both. I opened another cabinet and there was a box of Froot Loops torn open, the little colored rings spilling onto the bed.

I went downstairs. I wanted to drive to a bookstore I had seen, but I didn't have a car. We had all carpooled with my boss. I went into his room and took the keys to his giant fucking SUV. As I stepped over his inert body, he turned over in his sleep. His hair was all gelled up and he had on airbrushed makeup that made him look like he was starring in an '80s music video. I covered my eyes, thinking "I don't need to see this."

Once I got in the car, I drove around and realized that the bookstore I had seen was actually the front of the building in which we were staying. I felt like a giant doofus and went back, but the parking space the truck had been in was taken. The only space left was at a wierd angle near the back wall. I parked, but getting out I realized that there was no way that my boss was going to be able to get out of the space without hitting the wall. Oops.

I went back into the building only to find that my sisters were packing to leave. I sat down to eat a bowl of cereal, and as I was sitting in a cramped little back kitchen with some more Froot Loops, Jack Nicholson came walking in, talking on his cell phone. He was telling the other person that he was sorry he couldn't make it for lunch, but he had a doctor's appointment he couldn't miss. Nothing exciting, just an ingrown toenail. Considering that it was Jack Nicholson, it was a really boring conversation, but I was riveted to be eating cereal in the same kitchen as Jack Nicholson, scary looking movie star. And he's really, really ugly and old-looking in person.

I went upstairs and grabbed my boss by the quilt and started yelling at him that it was time to go, and he was just mumbling that he wanted another five minutes.

I don't know what the hell it means.