"LAST NIGHT I DREAMT..."

I woke up this morning from a nightmare. I had a dream I thought I'd been exposed to Ebola, and so some ballerina dude and I volunteered to be shot and spared an Ebola death. Only, I think I thought it was a joke, because I didn't think I'd actually be shot. But I was. And, by a former coworker. Right in the guts! I got up and started walking and climbing a mountain in this fog to find an old friend who was a physician and who I knew could help me, even though this old friend was fictional and not anyone I actually know. By the time I reached the top of the mountain, a few other people I know and haven't seen in years were with me and we got the doctor and went down the mountain to a karate place and he had me on the mats and was about to perform surgery to remove the bullet and I suddenly knew I'd die in surgery, so I started telling this girl sitting near me to deliver messages to my family and friends. So, every time I'd say a last name, even the handful of times I said "Guth", she'd ask, really excitedly about the ethnic origin of the various names. And, the anesthesia was doing its thing and my old friend Lois (who actually is dead) showed up and said, "Oh shit, you guys are putting Amy Guth out? That's a shame" and I was fading and having people write super-fast note to people I care most about and then, I was dead and hovering while looking at myself in a drawer and all blue and pale and I was so disappointed because I felt like I had so much more living to do.

Obviously, I sat straight up in bed and started the day with a little adrenaline and iddlyness. Calm blue ocean. Smooth sailing. Just a dream.