The Dream Police

I had a dream last night that was a little odd. My brother was in town and we got to talking about the colours that they paint cars now. I can remember when my mom and dad would buy cars they would come home with a book of colour swatches and agonize over what would be the best colour for the interior and the exterior. I never have cared one way or the other, but now you are only given a choice of about five colours and just a couple of variations on the interior. We were having this discussion and I told Steve that you could get a blue metal flake with gold flecks and he said “BULLSHIT!”

To prove it to him I drove over to where a friend that I worked with lived (Jason) and parked down the street. His new truck, with the blue metal flake with the gold flecks, was parked in the driveway and it appeared that he was having a party. I kind of crept up to his house and pulled a small section of the body off of the truck. I was just borrowing it to show Steve and then I was going to replace it. When I got back to the car with the blue metal flake and gold flecks, Steve was gone.

Steve has a fairly fine tuned sense as to when police will soon appear and he tends to disappear when he senses the cops are going to get involved. I got in the car and drove around the neighbourhood looking for Steve. No luck finding him, so I decided I had best return the part of Jason’s truck that I had taken. I guess that the party had moved on and with it, Jason’s truck. Instead of leaving the part in the driveway, I brought it home and put it under the Christmas tree.

Then I woke up, no Steve, no truck part with blue metal flake and the gold flecks, no cops (so far) and no idea what the hell the dream could possible mean. I suppose it could mean that I had over medicated myself once again. Well, I plan on taking the same drugs tonight and with any luck I can find out where Steve went, return the part of Jason’s truck that I borrowed and the dream police need never know what went on…

Sometimes I just don’t feel like writing anything. Sometimes I just don’t have anything that I think is worthwhile to write about. Sometimes I just don’t care. Sometimes…