I jerk my head up suddenly and let out a loud gasp as if surfacing from the depths of the ocean.  I inhale deeply as my heart races and I look around wildly at my surroundings.  It is dark out and as I squint into the night, my eyes adjust and I see the familiar surroundings of my bedroom.  The chaise lounge in the corner, covered in clothing.  The exercise bicycle against the wall, covered with dry cleaning.  My wife, sleeping soundly at my side, just covered.

My heart begins to slow and my breathing becomes more regular as I struggle to think of what it was that so violently awakened me from my slumber.  I close my eyes and it all comes back to me…

I am at Midway Airport, the walls appear Dali-esque as I am joining the death march of travelers wandering towards the baggage claim area.  I am on my phone trying to text a kind, virtual friend to come and pick me up.  We arrange to meet outside and as I am standing on the curb waiting for the chariot to arrive, it begins to rain.  The acidity of the rain burns upon my skin and I am left to find cover.  Before I melt into the concrete, however, a large pumpkin driven by eight, white stallions, appears and I am offered a ride by a pixiemom and her three little pixies.  I am introduced to Amy, Noelle and AnaBanana.  One likes to talk, one likes to sing and the other goes good with yogurt…

Before I know it, a loud, piercing sound penetrates my skull.  This sound is repeated hundreds of times as I grab my head with my hands and try in vain to overcome the pain of the sound… “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” I look around to see if anyone else is being traumatized by the sounds but smiles are in abundance and most of the faces I focus on are jumping up and down and I start to feel seasick… “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

The scene shifts again and I am suddenly being herded into a room with music blaring.  There is a mad dash towards one part of the room and I am left to wonder what could possibly be over there that is causing such a commotion.  I can’t quite make it out as women are throwing elbows and those caught on the fringes of the group try to battle their way to the front.  As the crowd begins to disperse I strain to see what could have been so important but all I am left to see are empty cardboard boxes as women, clutching red totes to their bosom scatter in different directions…

Suddenly I find myself in a room with hundreds of people with their faces buried in their phones, typing away furiously about God-knows-what.  There are blow-up dolls, bottles of lube and a naked woman walking proudly through the middle.  I see the Wild Rumpus from Where The Wild Things Are and I even get accosted by a wild woman with a southern twang…

The room shifts again and I find myself in another room full of chocolate.  I am wearing a tiara and I suddenly realize it’s my birthday.  My brother suddenly appears dressed like Big Bird and this makes sense because he is from The Street.  I am acutely aware that he shouldn’t be there but glad he is but I get worried when I am told I have to go to another party that has lots of glitter and a mean bouncer at the door.  I stuff Big Bird in my shirt and we sneak him into the party that, for some reason, makes me think of my Mom and Dad…

I am on the dance floor and shouting out Beastie Boys songs at the top of my lungs.  Someone walks by looking like my girlfriend from 1989 – full of neon and lace.  A unicorn winks at me from across the floor.  A man gives me whiskey that tastes like raspberries.  A dirt-eating man suddenly accosts me and I find my face being pushed into the floor and I wonder, for a brief moment, if this how it feels to die. And I wonder if I’m wearing underwear with holes in it…

I am standing in front of dozens of women. I think I might be naked but I’m too scared to look.  Am I before a firing squad? Why are there two other guys next to me? And what is that woman going to do with that microphone? I am forced to answer questions about my undergarments and I am fighting back tears.  There’s a really good looking guy standing in the back of the room flexing his muscles but all the women seem to love him for his mind.  Accusations are tossed about and women look both angry and confused.  Soon all the women are squeezing pink balls…

I am in another crowded room, with trays of cheese burgers being served by beautiful women.  I am given a bag to wear upon my head and no one thinks this is strange.  Other men, who clearly don’t belong because they are NOT wearing bags on their head try to crash the party.  I am introduced to Ms. Lori and I wonder where Hooper is.  I also wonder if Captain Kangaroo and Mister Rogers are somewhere in the room.  I think I see Mr. Green Jean hitting on a Cheese burger girl in the corner.  Men in suits arrive at the door and tell us we must leave. A woman with a camera pleads for the man to look “MORE PISSED OFF” as I head out the door…

A very Bossy woman tells me I have to go dancing and suddenly someone who tells me she is stalking me, along with my brother and other people with really weird names and accents force me into a cab and we are on our way.  Once there my shoes become scrutinized and pass muster.  I can’t hear anything but the stalker as we make our way inside.  I chat with the stalker until the Bossy lady determines it is time for us to go.  We arrive back where we started and I try to run but I’m pulled back to sit and talk with others…

I am talking and talking and listening and listening and my mind wants to sleep but my tortured soul loves every minute of this.  A muskrat runs through the lobby and no one seems to mind.  A mister-lady shows me her tattoo and I think I should understand what it means but I don’t.  I smile politely anyway because you do that when you’re dreaming about really absurd things.  I glance at my watch and it says 5:00 a.m.  I announce I am leaving and I make a run for it…

I am running and running and running… and going nowhere and I suddenly wake up with a loud gasp and I suck in oxygen while drenched in sweat.  I look around and see my beautiful wife sleeping next to me.  I lay back down, close my eyes, and try to have that dream one more time.