Sidetracked



Then I had a horrible dream about a rash of bulging red bumps covering my body.

Shelley's birthday dinner was successful. We all sat around and drank beer and talked and ate pizza. And sweated, because for some reason last night was the hottest night ever.
Then, as I was getting ready to leave, Shelley starts in with some scary urban legend story about a girl who is staying at her parents house by herself all weekend and she's scared about being alone and then someone slits her dog's throat and she can hear the blood dripping all night but she doesn't know her dog is dead and the killer is hiding under her bed and every time she hangs her hand down to pet the dog the killer licks her hand so she thinks it's the dog, anyway, totally freaked me out even though I try to be as rational as possible. So then I'm like, "Dude! I totally have to go home by myself to my dark, empty apartment!"

I left and drove around a little bit to get my mind back into happy-thoughts-mode. That didn't really work though, so then I called Dave thinking that would take my mind off of psychopathic dog killers, but that didn't really help either. I eventually made it home, walked into my dark apartment and was certain that there was someone in there waiting for me. But there wasn't.
So, then I turned on the T.V. and watched the Carson Daly show, cause that's the channel with the least amount of static. I thought about how Carson Daly is really a robot and how that's pretty sad but also really funny.
That made me feel better.

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