My subconscious clearly has more fun than I do...

I'm supposed to be keeping my feet elevated because they are swollen like woah (probably from the heat; my hands and feet both swell, but this is the worst my feet have ever been), but I can't type in that position with my current set up and I must tell you about this fantastic, cracked out dream that I had.

I was in Hawaii, swimming with Zachary Quinto and Chris O'Donnell, watching them compete in some kind of race that involved having a rope tied around their waists. A shark came up and bit down on Chris O'Donnell's rope and swam off with him and I had to go save him, but when I did and we got out of the water, we were faced with a tidal, which we survived. Then I watched a crime being committed, only it turned out that it was only on TV. Then I realized it was Halloween and I was bummed because someone how I'd forgetten my favortist holiday of the year and missed all of my favorite movies. But then I was happy because LL Cool J was coming back to the day shift and I have him a big ol' kiss on his cheek to let him know how happy I was before going to work on ER, where we couldn't tell the good guys from the bad guys and Tim Curry shot Tamala Jones before someone shot Tim Curry and I ended carrying both of their bodies (by myself because Noah Wiley was no help) through all of these corridors, past a ranting Jon Gosselin, to the front desk, where I dumped them at Jamie Lee Curtis's feet and told her to do something with them. Then she gathered all of us around to give us some kind of pep talk, but I got distracted by a puddle on the floor.

And then I woke up.

Freud would have fallen over.