
I dreamt I was in a submarine with others, each with our own specialty – mine, neuroscience. We had our own long rows of lettuce and had to integrate our lettuce DNA to prove we could coordinate specialties.
I dreamt I was in a submarine with others, each with our own specialty – mine, neuroscience. We had our own long rows of lettuce and had to integrate our lettuce DNA to prove we could coordinate specialties.
I dreamt that a friend came to a basement birthday party and wanted to show us how to make frosting in a new way. She painted my eyebrows with a liquid and lit them on fire.
I dreamt about an Oreo man, like the Stay-Puff or Kool-Ade man, made of an off-set stack of multi-colored oreo layers. His job title was “Oreo Color Coordinator and Oreo Distributor.”
I dreamt that I was swimming in a pool that had a long counter of coffees available. I swam passed, in ascending quality in my waking opinion, Starbucks, then Keurig, then Dunkin’ hot, then Dunkin’s iced, until I came to a refrigerator of sodas, and chose a Coke.
I dreamt that I was eating Triscuits, but didn’t want to.
I dreamt that my daughter and some of her friends were drinking at our home. Before they left, one of her friends in a white t-shirt took a full glass of red wine and threw it at her chest.
I dreamt I was in front of a thick and infinite wall of white post-it notes on the other side of which I could hear Trump asking for more meat from the grill.
I dreamt that a cannoli was following me.
I dreamt that Swedish Fish were flying around my head.
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I dreamt that my daughter had to get lunch at school by playing Hollywood Squares. Every square had a boy from her grade in it and a whole pizza. If she won that square, she got the pizza.