‘Cause why not, right, brain?
Anyway, in my dream, CNN did this big story about how someone (it was heavily implied that it was Trump) was putting microscopic GPS trackers in Eggo waffles which, once consumed, were used to track where people went for the rest of their lives.
(Why the waffle got digested/pooped out but the GPS trackers did not was never explained.)
The German government got involved (?) because they were pissed at the fact that America was getting all this attention for mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers but in fact Germany had been doing this for years and could prove this by showing a complex map of all the German citizens that had been tracked by said mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers.
Then Steven Spielberg comes out of nowhere, saying that the mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers was his idea: he used it in Jaws to keep track of the shark while they were filming.
(‘Cause the shark in Jaws was totally real, y’all.)
I don’t remember much after that, but seriously, brain?
I’ve been having a lot of dreams lately that, when I wake up, I can just barely remember the gist of how they went. Last night’s dream, however, was much more vivid and memorable.
I’m in D.C. my dad and he’s all “let’s go see the White House.” So we walk over to the White House, knock on the front door, and are let inside.
(Y’know, how ordinary people normally get inside the White House.)
The interior looks suspiciously similar to our old house on Grant St. except there’s more furniture and Donald Trump and Michelle Obama (???) are sitting at this large table in the middle of the living room. My dad decides to jet on me, saying he had something he needed to do but would be right back, and I’m tasked with trying to make small talk with Trump Taco and Michelle. So I’m like, “I like your house,” and that’s obviously not a very impressionable thing to say to them because they just keep sitting there, smiling awkwardly at me like “who is this nerd?”
After a few awkward minutes, I notice that there’s a taste of blood in my mouth, and I realize that one of my upper teeth on the left side of my mouth is bleeding a little. So I excuse myself and go to the bathroom.
(Y’know, how ordinary people normally use the president’s bathroom.)
In the bathroom, the bleeding starts to get worse, and no matter how many Kleenex I use, I can’t get it to stop. It only takes about five minutes for there to be tons of bloody Kleenexes in the trash can, the sink, the toilet, and the tub.
But I’m like, “nah, they won’t notice this,” and decide to try to plug up the bleeding just using my tongue, since I suspect my dad is back by now and is angry that I was rude and left The Trumpster Dumpster and Michelle.
I open my mouth one more time to look at it in the mirror, and I can see blood just gushing out between my upper teeth on the left side of my mouth. I also notice that my cheek is starting to swell up quite a bit, as if I had a golf ball tucked in there.
NO BIG DEAL THOUGH, RIGHT, so I leave all the bloody Kleenex everywhere and try to wash the blood off my hands before I go back out there to see everyone. But as I’m doing this, the swelling gets worse and worse and then I start to feel the swelling move into my throat, making it very difficult to breathe.
I’m also shirtless, somehow, by this point, and I’m thinking that I really need some medical attention. Which is super embarrassing, but IT’S MORE EMBARRASSING TO DIE IN THE PRESIDENT’S BATHROOM, so through my rapidly closing airway, I manage to shout, “dad, I need some help!”
And then I woke up.
The scariest thing about this dream though? The fact that Trump was president. Good thing it was just a dream.
I was watching the CTV news while I was running on the treadmill this afternoon. They had some “scientist” from Trump’s team talking about the great myth that is climate change. And he was contradicting the hell out of himself. For example:
“Climate change is a myth that has been blown way out of proportion by the liberals. Climate change isn’t happening.”
Then, in the next sentence, “It’s important that the US not limit its coal and oil production, as the extra monetary protection will be beneficial once the climate changes.”
Like, seriously. That’s almost word-for-word.
I had Trump’s victory speech on mute last night because I was trying not to flip out, but apparently it wasn’t the awful “I’m your dictator now, burn Hillary, burn the immigrants, launch nukes at Australia because an Aussie called me a bad name in a Tweet” type of speech that I was expecting.
And I know it’s not much, and I know it probably means absolutely nothing in the long run, but for now, I’m going to cling to that as a possible beacon of hope that this presidency isn’t going to be the train wreck that we all suspect.
Edit: NOPE nope NOPE nope NOPE nope NOPE nope NOPE nope NOPE nope NOPE nope
An accurate representation of what I was like as this calamity of a Presidential election unfolded:
Seriously though. I honestly didn’t think Trump had a chance in hell, and now it’s like 2 AM and he’s giving his little victory speech and I’m literally shaking.
What the hell is wrong with the United States?
(Sorry I don’t have more of a reaction. I’m just…shocked.)