Like I was all about SpongeBob. I went into my bedroom to have a nap (which is kind of funny that even in my dreams I’m thinking about taking a nap).
And then when I laid down on my bed it was SpongeBob as far as the eye could see.
I had a keychain, a plushy, all kinds of toys. He was on my bedspread and pillow cases. Everywhere I looked there the little yellow man was.
And that’s all I remember. I must’ve started dreaming about something else.
My point to all of this is that this is the dumbest fucking dream I’ve had my whole life. And this is why you don’t tell people about your dreams. Ever. Unless you found the cure for cancer while you were asleep, nobody will care about your SpongeBob drivel.
I’m sorry if your dreams are important to you. But it can be downright painful for the person listening to you recount every meaningless scene in your latest dream. Especially when it’s first thing in the morning.
It’s borderline abuse really.