Is there a psychoanalyst in the house? or
I pity the fool…

Okay – so I’m dreaming that I’m back in high school. There’s a big formal dance and everyone’s all dressed up nice and spiffy except for me. I’m in shabby jeans and a t-shirt. No big deal. It’s dark and no one will care. And anyone who does care isn’t really the type that I care about anyways.

So I’m dancing away and having a good time when out of the blue, the chattering teeth in my pocket started to go off. Why did I have chattering teeth in my pocket? I don’t know. I really don’t. But they were chattering away, very loudly and disrupting the dance.

Well. Mr. T didn’t take to kindly to that. Oh yes. Mr. T was at the dance wearing a pale blue tux and he was very upset that the chattering was spoiling the dance.

“I PITY THE FOOL WHO MESSES WITH MR T’s DANCE” he cried and began tearing through the place looking for my chattering teeth.

Well, I booked it out of there as fast as I could, but Mr. T saw me and gave pursuit. Up and down the hallways of the school we went until I took a bad turn and ended in a dead end. Trapped. With an angry Mr. T looming forward.

“YOU’RE LATE FOOL” he said.

And with that I awoke – indeed, very late for work.

So now I’m left wondering – overworked and overstressed or just plain nuts?