Dreampost!
Apr. 26th, 2007 10:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityvixenFINALLY! A dream to rival those of the cracktastic ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ivy03!!!
Last night, I dreamt that I was doing cross-stitches on the couch in my family's old living room while my brother watched TV when a yellow-spotted nurse shark suddenly popped into the air over our heads. My brother was too busy watching TV to see it at first. It did a lap (swimming) around the ceiling before it succumbed to gravity, finally getting his attention when it crashed.
He hopped up as I started shrieking for him to get it into the bathroom quickly! so it wouldn't die. I then tried to run and get salt to add to the water it was thrashing in in the bathtub (not before mentioning that my brother had to keep the water circulating or it would drown). He got the tub full in record time, and the slight current he made was enough for the shark to just chill out and sit on the bottom gaping to get air through its gills.
I was running to find one of those diner-esque pointy salt shakers downstairs WHEN THE TERRORISTS BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE. They got me, my brother, and my dad all up to the living room and were all menacing, and the only thing I could think about was the poor sharky that was going to die if it didn't get salt into the water. I started to try and explain this, and my dad was all, "There's a shark in our bathroom?"
Eventually, I was allowed to go downstairs--unsupervised! Worst. Terrorists. Ever!--and I ransacked the still-mangled basement (from the flooding) for a computer but my hands were shaking too badly to type "AQUARIUM." You see, I did actually know where the salt was; my priority was contacting a reputable water-museum to take the shark off our hands. Not, you know, calling the police or otherwise waving for attention over the fact there were TERRORISTS in our house.
I got a number somehow and got an Aussie girl on the phone and asked her to come pick up our shark (she'd never heard of a nurse shark with yellow spots either) only to find out that she was not an ex-pat but was, in fact, in Australia. I then tried to type a hundred more times into Google to get the name of the aquarium where I used to volunteer in high school, gave up and went for the sodden phonebook and was about to go tearing through my shit in the basement to find an old volunteer newsletter when I woke up...
ivy03!!!Last night, I dreamt that I was doing cross-stitches on the couch in my family's old living room while my brother watched TV when a yellow-spotted nurse shark suddenly popped into the air over our heads. My brother was too busy watching TV to see it at first. It did a lap (swimming) around the ceiling before it succumbed to gravity, finally getting his attention when it crashed.
He hopped up as I started shrieking for him to get it into the bathroom quickly! so it wouldn't die. I then tried to run and get salt to add to the water it was thrashing in in the bathtub (not before mentioning that my brother had to keep the water circulating or it would drown). He got the tub full in record time, and the slight current he made was enough for the shark to just chill out and sit on the bottom gaping to get air through its gills.
I was running to find one of those diner-esque pointy salt shakers downstairs WHEN THE TERRORISTS BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE. They got me, my brother, and my dad all up to the living room and were all menacing, and the only thing I could think about was the poor sharky that was going to die if it didn't get salt into the water. I started to try and explain this, and my dad was all, "There's a shark in our bathroom?"
Eventually, I was allowed to go downstairs--unsupervised! Worst. Terrorists. Ever!--and I ransacked the still-mangled basement (from the flooding) for a computer but my hands were shaking too badly to type "AQUARIUM." You see, I did actually know where the salt was; my priority was contacting a reputable water-museum to take the shark off our hands. Not, you know, calling the police or otherwise waving for attention over the fact there were TERRORISTS in our house.
I got a number somehow and got an Aussie girl on the phone and asked her to come pick up our shark (she'd never heard of a nurse shark with yellow spots either) only to find out that she was not an ex-pat but was, in fact, in Australia. I then tried to type a hundred more times into Google to get the name of the aquarium where I used to volunteer in high school, gave up and went for the sodden phonebook and was about to go tearing through my shit in the basement to find an old volunteer newsletter when I woke up...
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Date: 2007-04-27 12:33 am (UTC)I never have the fun dreams.