It is a known fact that the only thing guaranteed to clear the room faster than Taco Bell farts is an enthusiastic retelling of the amazing dream you had last night.*
So I won’t—out of decency—tell you of the nightmare that woke me this morning in a full-blown panic attack. Plus, it doesn’t really go with the whole format of this blog, the he-said/I-said of it all.
Yup, Really. I’m not out to bore you with that sort of thing. It’s not my style…
But the conversation I had with him when he got out of the shower is!
ME: Oh my God, I had the worst nightmare.
HIM: (sympathetic) Oh!
ME: But it was worse because until it got bad it was so cool and I was like, “He’s being really funny and I’m gonna make a note of that; I’ll get a whole blog post out of this!”
HIM: But then…
ME: (delicately) Okay… you’d lost your job.**
HIM: (stops dressing) … My new job.
ME: (bites lip) (nods)
ME: (rushing on) So anyway, we were downtown, doing some— (gestures) It was a whole thing. You know.
HIM: (continues dressing) Uh-huh… (continues eyeing me suspiciously)
ME: And we got on this bus. But it was like a weird bus… nevermind. It was turning left and another bus was coming on and the two busses stopped and the drivers were calling out to each other, catching up—just having a conversation. Like we’re not in the middle of the road or anything.
ME: And the bus had barely any people on it but for some reason it was like a standing bus?
HIM: (raises eyebrow)
ME: Right. So I was standing there and you were standing there and there were people around and they tried to chat us up—
ME: Yeah, I don’t even know. But the woman in front of me started up with, “So what do you do for a living?”
ME: And you know how I hate that question, so you called out, “We both work for the BBC!”
ME: And I was like, what the hell, nobody’s gonna buy that in St. Louis! And sure enough, they were all looking skeptical but you went on, “Oh, sure, they hire people all over the world now—you know, the Internet.” And just like that they all went, oh, yeah.
ME: And then you said, “I’m just a radio man, but she’s,” (points) “in show business. She works on the television side.”
ME: And again I was like, what are you doing! but just as the woman in front of me got stars in her eyes and opened her mouth to spill out a billion questions you said, “Of course, people hear that and get all excited, but they forget that BBC does all sorts of programs, from documentaries and procedurals to comedies and dramas to news. Some of it is very glamorous and some of it is dull. She works on a drama, so it’s the driest of work on the driest of networks.”
HIM: (chuckling) I—
ME: And just like that, her little face fell and she didn’t want to talk to me anymore and they all faced forward and nobody had any more questions for us and I was like, this is brilliant! I should make a note of this! I have the BEST HUSBAND EVER!
HIM: You’re welcome.
ME: Yeah, but then I remembered that rent is due and I couldn’t remember how much it was but I’m pretty sure we don’t have enough to carry on for too terribly long without your income—
HIM: But I—
ME: And then I remembered how much rent is—because at this point I was working myself into a full-blown panic attack and it was waking me up—
HIM: Oh, hon—
ME: So I grabbed you—on the bus—and started talking to you about it and you said…
ME: (collects self) You, very quietly, asked me, “Do you really want to do this here? These people think we work for the BBC!”
HIM: (laughs wildly)
ME: So, fine. I dragged you off the bus—which still hadn’t started moving, I guess?—and pulled you around a big smoked glass building and started freaking out about the exact amount of each bill and I just bought that neck thing off amazon—
HIM: You rea—
ME: Yeah, I remembered that because—again—the panic was waking me up. And I freaked about not being able to recall exactly how much was in our account but I asked you if you’d even applied for anything in the days since you’d been let go because I know you were having fun hanging out with me but we need money and seriously, had you applied for anything? And do you know what you said?
HIM: (very serious) No.
ME: You said, “I’ve applied for a position in your pants.”
HIM: (loses control of laughter)
ME: And that’s when I really lost it and woke up with a gasp. And it took me a few minutes to calm down enough to realize…
HIM: (stops laughing) I know.
ME: No, I realized, wait… he went to work yesterday!
ME: And he just got a promotion!
HIM: I did. And I’m going to work today (gestures at self, fully dressed)
ME: So after I caught my breath I thought on it a little and realized I should still tell you about the dream. Because after I calmed down I realized it was a nightmare—
ME: —but it was a funny one.
ME: I mean… Do you really want to do this here? These people think we work for the BBC!
ME: (laughing) Right?!
HIM: Well at least I’m funny in your dreams.
* Seriously—if you’re reading this, Weird Lady from that party in 2011 who followed me from room to room telling me about the amaaaaaaazing and suuuuper weird dream she had about her cats—I’ve never cared about anything less in my life. And I didn’t have to pee, that was just the one place I was sure you wouldn’t follow. And the fact that I climbed out a goddamned window to escape and had to call my friend to leave my purse on the front porch, sneak around to get it, and wait around the corner for a cab should haunt you, not me. But because I have a blog and you don’t (oh shit, she probably has a blog, doesn’t she?) now everybody knows I did that thing and they’re all going to laugh at the extreme measures I took. Examine your life, madam.
** Link included for new readers who might not know why that’s a thing I’d bother worrying about.