So, I'm selling someone life insurance (which is weird because that's not directly what I do) inside this room that is like the accounting place in The Producers. I'm talking to the guy's wife who is like some kind of foreign fancy mail order bride or some shit. We're waiting on her husband to show up. When he does I realize that he plans on committing suicide as soon as he signs the paperwork. I'm trying to get through his head that he has to have the policy for at least 2 years and then he can go for it, but he won't listen. He never signs, but his wife walks into a room in the back and the Apocalypse starts.
I don't know what happens to the guy, but I'm in a parking garage all of the sudden looking for my car. I keep clicking the button on my key chain to try to hear the car honk. Not sure what happens in the interim. Suddenly I'm trying to help everyone escape the Apocalypse (no, I don't know how that works). I have a little boy with me and we get into an elevator with a bunch of people and suddenly the elevator drops. I'm able to hold on to the floor without getting smooshed, but the whole rest of the car falls. I start to try to get everyone else out onto the roof because that's where the cars are that are going to help us all escape (again, no idea). At the last minute I see a guy clinging to the railing in the stairwell and I go back for him. We get out to the roof just in time to see the cars pull away. We're left with a handful of people on the rooftop.
I'm on the street. People are running and crying and trying to get people out. I run into 2 guys that are going after one guy's girlfriend. We get there just in time to see blood running down the doors. We get out of there and start running. We keep running into this guy (or it may be several guys) that look like one-eyed clowns. Something in the mix of a V for Vendetta/Clockwork Orange/Batman kind of bad guy. They (or him) are around every corner. They are causing everyone's heads to explode and the intersections are dropping out into enormous holes in the ground. One of the guy's I'm with explodes. The other guy and I separate and say we'll meet up later somehow. I run towards a pair of door and these crazy, skinny, black chicks that look like some kind of vampires block the door. I try to pry one of their arms off the doors and just as I get the idea for me to cut one of their arms off I hear birds chirping and pretty symphony kind of music.
Yup, that would be my alarm. Every.... single... night.... At least it's more interesting than the zombies or bugs or whatever my subconscious hates that particular day. Oddly enough, while I'm fighting to stay awake I sometimes want to get back in the dream because for a moment or two I think it would be a good idea for a story. Then an hour or two later when I still can't stop thinking about the dream and shuddering and feeling downright horrible I can't imagine why I would have thought that.
So, why don't I like sleeping? Why do I think it's a waste of time and miserable? Why am I happier staying up all night giving everyone I know a hard time and trying to think of things outside of the normal? Well, because part of me can't help it and the other part of me finds it a necessity.
I'll tell you one thing though, nothing is funnier than hearing my alarm while in the middle of hellfire and brimstone.
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