Tuesday April 22, 2003

Oh, the cracked-up dreams I have...

At 3:45 this morning, I woke up from my sleep, looked at my alarm clock, and though to myself, No, this isn't possible, she couldn't have. For about five minutes I wrestled the idea that my roommate, Stephanie Lynn, had committed a double homicide. No joke.

I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't awake. I was in this weird in-between state where I couldn't decide what was real and what was not. I had no clue what was going on.

In my dream, Stephanie was confronted by someone who had discovered something about her past. Quickly reacting to the confrontation, she grabbed a folding chair and pummeled them over the head, killing them instantly. "I had to kill them, I didn't have a choice," she insisted, in disturbingly calm manner.

After committing the crime she took the body to a state fair, where she lit it aflame in a back tent, then buried it in a vacant lot behind the fair. My roommate, a murderer.

Now that I'm fully awake and (at least partially) coherent, I know that this was a dream and Stephanie would never do such a thing (unless she was pissed off, or something), but I'm still utterly disturbed. She killed someone, charred and dumped the body, and I aided and abetted the whole thing. Seriously, I think I've been watching too many episodes of the FBI Files.

Other news: my hostees decided to show me up and put together a bunch of new layouts. I think they're pretty darn cool. Visit: 1 2 3 4 5 6