My dream chronicled (and I mean that in the most tediously tedious way possible) the lives of 2 people, who I’ll call Stella and Ella (they didn’t really have names in the dream).
Stella was an Asian recently-ish single mother of a toddler who thought most things were louder than they needed to be.
Ella dealt with her chronic insomnia by creating spreadsheets documenting all of the ways she’s come up with to catalog, index and organize her already massive, yet ever increasing collection of professional grade floor tile samples.
A huge portion of the main scene from the dream that I remember dealt with the 2 main characters returning to a bar where they’d in the last week or so come to find that they loved karaoke. In tow with them was (I’ll call him) Luke (also had no name) a buddy of theirs from somewhere who’s pre-teen daughter would sometimes watch Stella’s toddler.
The night was unfolding to reveal that although Stella and Ella abso-lutely loved their karaoke experience, they were actually rather poor performers. So poor in fact that they had gotten a round of applause when they returned to the bar and a few patrons had designed hand made fan shirts.
Things progressed with Luke failing to convince them that they should neither perform their dream set of maroon5, abba, o-town, with a rick james closer; nor should they engage in keg stands in their sadly chosen clothing choices..
My alarm broke me from this world just after Ella (having fallen during her keg stand after realizing that she both didn’t like Killian’s red nor did she like her loose fitting blouse falling up to flash the mob) had her injured arm hastily bandaged with boards from a wine case and electrical tape…and right before the 2 misfit heroines stepped up to the karaoke screens that would undoubtedly extend their american idol spotlighted reject level of infamy.
So tell me…how do you think I slept?
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