(no subject)
...
So last night I had a dream that our librarian from St. Paul's, Miss Furnari (who now works at the City Library), came to visit me at the high school. I went into the chorus room, thinking it was time for Chamber, but no one else was there except for Miss Furnari and Mrs. Shaver. (Mrs. Shaver was busy talking to some parent, actually, and they were planning something or other.) She was really excited to see me, and vise versa; I mean, she was arguably my favorite teacher in elementary school.
But the reason she came to see me was to give me an ENTIRE BOTTLE of tartar sauce. ... I guess this was some sort of inside joke, because we both cracked up as soon as she pulled it out of her bag. Then she told me I needed something to "wash [the tartar sauce] down with" and handed me a Rudy's-style fish sandwhich on one of those grey paper plates with writing on it. (Not even to-go, either; just hot and ready.) Oh, and then I asked her if I had to cook it (?!), and she said, "No." [Note: I hate sea food. I don't eat fish or anything resembling sea food. So don't ask me what the fish/tartar sauce routine is all about.]
Then I was really worried because I decided that it was time for Band, and I didn't want to leave my food in the chorus room unattended because I figured someone would eat it, so I just took it to band with me and ate it, instead of playing.
....
&If that isn't the most retarded dream in existence, I don't know what is.
So last night I had a dream that our librarian from St. Paul's, Miss Furnari (who now works at the City Library), came to visit me at the high school. I went into the chorus room, thinking it was time for Chamber, but no one else was there except for Miss Furnari and Mrs. Shaver. (Mrs. Shaver was busy talking to some parent, actually, and they were planning something or other.) She was really excited to see me, and vise versa; I mean, she was arguably my favorite teacher in elementary school.
But the reason she came to see me was to give me an ENTIRE BOTTLE of tartar sauce. ... I guess this was some sort of inside joke, because we both cracked up as soon as she pulled it out of her bag. Then she told me I needed something to "wash [the tartar sauce] down with" and handed me a Rudy's-style fish sandwhich on one of those grey paper plates with writing on it. (Not even to-go, either; just hot and ready.) Oh, and then I asked her if I had to cook it (?!), and she said, "No." [Note: I hate sea food. I don't eat fish or anything resembling sea food. So don't ask me what the fish/tartar sauce routine is all about.]
Then I was really worried because I decided that it was time for Band, and I didn't want to leave my food in the chorus room unattended because I figured someone would eat it, so I just took it to band with me and ate it, instead of playing.
....
&If that isn't the most retarded dream in existence, I don't know what is.