Dancing Terrorists

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have undeniably strange dreams. I LOVE my strange dreams. In fact, one reason I love sleeping so much is that my dreams are so hilarious and feel so real. Please note that I did not say they were realistic, but just incredibly vivid. Unfortunately, this means that when I have nightmares, they are equally as vivid, and it is not uncommon for me to wake up with my heart racing and tears streaming down my face. And even as crazy as my dreams are now, when I was on Effexor, my dreams were just in another dimension altogether. Living in a dishwasher and talking calmly with a giant squid were just the highlights. I really miss those days, and sometimes want to go back on Effexor just for the dreams.

A theme that my subconscious seems to be playing with lately is that of terrorists that enjoy creating dance routines. It started a few months ago when I was trapped in a building that had suddenly been taken over by terrorists. I happened to be in the elevator going to the ground floor at the time the infiltration was initiated. When the doors opened, and I realized what was going on, I quickly hit the "Door Close" button (and we all know that that button doesn't actually do anything... just like the button we hit to make the "Walk" sign light up for us). I went to another floor, and had no choice but to get out. The terrorists had somehow made it to this floor as well, and were forcing a large group of hostages to learn and practice a Britney Spears dance routine. True torture, indeed.

Last night, the man whom I can only assume is the leader of the Dancing Terrorists made an appearance. I referred to him as The Dance Captain. Somehow we knew he was coming before he arrived, and I bet someone that when he got there, he would do some dance moves, using his hands as guns, a la a terrifically horrible musical about the Wild West.

And I was not let down. When The Dance Captain finally arrived, he was so involved in his performance, that he did not notice the police officers that had snuck in to save us. His end was not a good one, but at least we weren't forced to don skanky outfits and dance around to bad pop music.