Wednesday, May 11, 2011


I'm not the best sleeper. It takes me hours to fall asleep on an almost regular basis and even when I am asleep, I wake up midway through just about every slumber. Therefore, I take the occasional Tylenol PM to slow down my brain. I have no doubt that last night's dosage of one Tylenol PM is what catapulted my unconscious thoughts into way beyond outer space.

Last night's dream was a three-part doozie. The first two parts weren't all that interesting. In one part I saw a gUrl I went to high school with who writes on my Facebook wall regularly (SHOUT OUT LEE ANN NELSON). Then, I went to a Chicago Blackhawks game with my two loves (SHOUT OUT BRUDER AND BOWEN).

The third and final installment is what did and is still throwing me for a real loopty-loo. I was with a male looking at a display case full of stuff on Franklin Pierce (who else?). It's not weird for me to dream about Franky P., came Ronald Reagan. He strolled in casually behind me and looked over my shoulder at the display case. He said something along the lines of, "Total looker, eh?" to my male friend and giggled. When I turned around to discuss the comment with him, I realized who it was.

I immediately stuck out my hand to introduce myself and froze. I froze mid-handshake and in the middle of saying, "I am so honored to meet you, Mr. President." Clearly, my hand went limp and in return he said, "Ma'am, your handshake is weak and quite honestly, I'm embarrassed." Upon letting go of my hand and walking off in disgust he shook his head and motioned for Nancy to join him. He then mumbled something under his breath about "weak women" and was gone!

As often as I day-dream about the Presidents, I rarely actually dream about them...and now that I have one is completely disgusted with what I always considered a fairly solid handshake.

I guess, now, I kind of think Ronald Reagan is an asshole.

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