Ooh-boy! Even though I now know they’re induced by my blood pressure medication, my vivid dreams still keep me on my toes.
I’m even considering using “tags” for these posts, since I know not everyone is interested in my brilliant, hilarious, and thought-provoking dreams.
I’ve never “tagged” anything else. I’ve never really thought I had enough categories.
Ann-Marie complaining about loud, obnoxious children in public places
Ann-Marie complaining about children’s lackadaisical parents
Ann-Marie complaining about infertility
Ann-Marie memorializing one dead person or another
Ann-Marie composing a sappy poem, since she’s too cheap to buy a real gift
And, of course:
Ann-Marie’s medically-induced, whacked-out dreams
But these little gems just keep coming. This latest one featured Brad Pitt as my CAMP COUNSELOR. I am not kidding.
We both wore khaki shorts and everything. Oh, and my best friend’s name was Flare.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
Next post – Camp Martyr with Brad Pitt! On an island!