Last night I had a dream that I was being chased by bears. I vaguely recall that the bears turned into another scary creature, and then another one, and another one, but I only specifically remember the bears. I escaped by running into a hotel through a revolving door, which I then locked behind me with some sort of bear-repelling revolving door lock. In that moment, I thought, “Hey self, you know how you always thought being eaten by bears would be an interesting way to go, because it would make a good story for your friends to tell? Well, I’ve changed my mind now. I really would not like to be eaten by bears at this particular point in time.”
I happend to wake up sometime after this dream, look at the clock and find that I had enough time to go back to sleep, remember that it didn’t matter what time it was because I never work on Fridays anyway, and dozed off again.
Back in dreamland, I imagined that I was Justin Bieber’s assistant. Before you judge me for dreaming about Bieber (ugh), I would explain that a girl at work is moving to Canada in a couple weeks and we were talking about all things Canadian yesterday when we were supposed to be writing emails. ANYway, he was a pain in the ass (suprise, surprise), and there must have been some dream carry-over, because I remember thinking, “If I open up the stage doors, do you think the bears will come in and eat him? If the bears do come in and eat him, will that make teenage girls everywhere hate bears? I don’t want to make him into a martyr for the Bears: The Number One Threat to America movement. I’m pretty sure Stephen Colbert would agree that Bieber is a bigger threat to America than bears.” Unfortunately, bears did not come and eat Bieber, and I had to continue carrying out his offensive and tyrannical whims.
Being Bieber’s assistant was a lot scarier than being chased by bears.