The Dream is Always the Same

I am in a house. If not my house, than a house I am comfortable being in; everything’s a little unclear here. I go into the bathroom and notice that the bathtub is filled with rotting corpses. “Holy Shit!” I say, and dial 911. No answer to repeated calls. Have I been abandoned?

Friends come over. “Jesus Christ,” I tell them. “There are all these dead bodies in the bathtub. We need to do something!” My friends do not share my urgency. “Oh, yeah, we should do something about that,” they say. “Also, did you see Celtics-Bulls last night?


I have no idea what this means, unless it’s a general anxiety over the state of the media, or the economy in general, or the fact that I couldn’t get my &$#%ing xBox Live to work to play Left4Dead with N and R.

Or maybe, in the same way that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, it means it’s time to clean my bathroom.

Notes

  1. markcoatney posted this