I had the strangest dream last night.
It began with me driving myself to some unknown location. I watched as a dude on a motorcycle nearly got run off the road by some angry guy in a truck. Then, I was sideswiped by an RV and nearly run off the road. (The guy in the RV was using his cell phone and not paying shit’s worth attention to the road.) Now, this being a dream and all, nobody stopped for these near-accidents–not even the drivers themselves (me included). A short while later, there was a chain-reaction accident, with the two cars ahead of the motorcycle and truck ramming into each other, then the truck finally succeeded in plowing down the motorcycle. The RV sideswiped me again and I got pushed off the interstate, but thankfully I wasn’t hurt.
The RV continued on (probably so distracted by his cell phone that he didn’t notice he had almost killed someone), and the survivors of the accidents–which happened to be all of us, miraculously–stood by the side of the road, calling 9-1-1 and waiting for police or ambulances to show up. No one arrived, though, so after several hours of waiting we walked over to a hospital that was across the road. Why didn’t we go there in the first place? It was a dream,silly. There rarely is a rational why in a dream.
I spent the next little bit of the dream crying like a baby because I was so upset that no cops had come to the scene of the accidents. By the time a cop arrived at the hospital I was in hysterics, and no amount of talk could console me because I never saw the license plate of the hit-and-run RV.
At some point i realized I was in Florida, though Gods know why (the most likely reason is that I had a patient yesterday who was talking about Florida–real-me, not dream-me). While at this hospital in Florida, I ran into a family that I hadn’t seen in a long time. They were doing well, which is odd considering the husband & wife divorced last year.
Flash forward to an unknown amount of time, and all of a sudden the Eleventh Doctor shows up. Don’t know who I’m talking about? I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Anywho, he was being his usual silly self and I was trying to calm down after the accidents when suddenly, my tongue felt funny. I checked a mirror, and I had the most disgusting pustule on the end of my tongue.
I could barely talk, and I felt so gross and disgusting. The Doctor was nice enough to stick by me and try to help out. Now, if you know who I’m talking about, then you know that he’s not the kind of doctor I needed just then. As we tried to find a medical doctor, my tongue got worse and worse. It burned, and talking was nearly impossible due to the swelling. The pustule got bigger and bigger, and my teeth started falling out. I was spitting out blood, pus, and teeth all over the place. Just as we found a medical doctor, I woke up.
I think I’m going to go brush my teeth now. Maybe a couple of times.