I have Covid. I’ll be OK, but as you can imagine Covid puts a damper on writing Situation Normal. For one thing, I’m quarantining, which limits my interactions with the oddballs, scammers, kind strangers, and dip-shits I rely on for inspiration. Another thing, I feel like crap, and it’s difficult to write when you feel like crap.
My plan was to call in sick, but then the drugs got the better of me. And by drugs, I mean NyQuil. I take NyQuil because the label promises to relieve your symptoms so you can get some rest. But what the label fails to mention is that NyQuil can also give you strange dreams. Really strange dreams. The kind of dreams Sigmund Freud wouldn’t interpret with a ten-foot phallic symbol.
I should probably keep my strange dreams to myself, but my whole schtick is turning lemons into lemonade, narratively speaking. So I decided to share a few of these dope-sick dreams with you.
Enjoy & I’m so sorry!
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