25. Fall out of bed.

You’re having that dream again. The one where you and your third grade teacher, Mrs. Knopsider, are running through a field of posies in the style of a Clarinex commercial. You can breathe so free and easy! The congestion is gone!

Suddenly, a cliff looms up ahead. You turn back to Mrs. Knopsider, only to find a fire hydrant where she previously stood. Well, that’s just unhelpful. You glance up at the sky, filled with flying toasters. A bullhorn sounds behind you. You whip around, brandishing a catfish. It can’t be! All the people you’ve ever slept with are charging towards you, waving baguettes, sporks, and floor lamps! You must escape! The only way out is the cliff. You peek over the edge and gaze into the pale orange waters below. A pterodactyl screeches by, beckoning for you to jump and towing an ad for a sale on futons. You hold your breath, hug your childhood hamster tight, and take the plunge.

You land, for some reason, on a cold, hard floor. Huh? Now is the moment you become really confused, ironically enough. This reality makes no sense. You were just named Dictator for Life in the land of Narnia, and now you’re here? In your room? With no pants on? Something has gone horribly wrong.

Confused, groggy, and bleeding, you grope around the floor for something that might provide an explanation. Shoe? What the hell is a shoe doing in the land of Narnia?? You begin throwing random pieces of clothing across the room, hoping to defend yourself against the horde of exes whom you still believe to be surrounding you. If only you still had your catfish!

Your roommate/mother/live-in psychiatrist rushes in to determine the source of the deafening crash heard throughout the rest of the house, only to find you writhing in a state of delirium and shouting “I’m just not looking for a serious relationship right now!” at no one in particular. They attempt to rouse you from the hallucinations, but you just bite their ankle and call them a “smelly Nutter Butter”. They drape a pair of pants over your naked torso and leave, frightened. They won’t be back.

Finally, exhausted, you submit to the forces of consciousness and snap back to reality. You’re covered in dust, drool, and Oreo crumbs. Your head hurts. Your elbow is sticking out at an odd angle. And worst of all, you have to be at the office in twenty minutes. They won’t buy that pterodactyl story again. Not twice in one week.

So if you want to suck at life, fall out of bed. Lesser people would purchase bed rails to keep from flinging themselves about the room during states of deep unconsciousness, but not you. Every trip to the floor is another adventure. Plus, two more concussions and you get unlimited ER parking.



  1. planetross said

    This is one area I choose “not to suck at life”.
    I sleep on a futon.
    And it wasn’t because of any flashy pterodactyl advertising!

  2. “All the people you’ve ever slept with are charging towards you, waving baguettes, sporks, and floor lamps!”


    I wondered what had happened to all the sporks.

  3. theatrechick said

    Best. One. YET!

    You sound like me.

  4. Brian Retchless said

    I want your dreams.

  5. Lina said

    Ok, so I’m not the only one who dreams of Narnia! Try falling out of bed and onto the dog who sleeps in the same spot every night

  6. pippypip25 said

    i know how you feel, i dreamt that my dogs squeaky toy stabbed me with a spork
    *crys uncontrollably*

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