In my dreams, I freak Rob Thomas out

Okay...just woke up from yet another land-of-the-bizarre dream...one in which I apparently play the flute with Rob Thomas. But, at the end of the day, I don't actually play with him...let us begin...

The dream starts, and I'm helping people set up the stage...and it's weird, because it's people from my athletics department, and it's actually some sort of athletic event, but then, it's also like a church. Whatever.

So, the stage is set, and I'm practicing, and Rob is there, and we're all practicing, and it's really crowded.

All of the sudden, he's asking people for sunglasses because apparently whatever I'm playing is causing him to see these crazy bursts of light and it's hurting him or something. Um, what? And he's very nice about it...like he doesn't even understand why it's happening. But it's also apparently not the first time my flute playing has caused this to happen to him.

Then, someone takes my flute...like they're going to see what's up with it. And it so happens that this person is someone I used to work with at SJSU...and then my friends Dave and JJ are there (also musicians), and my friend Jill (not a musician...but a big fan of Rob)...and they start working on music, and suddenly, I'm just standing there, and my flute, and apparently my phone, are now on top of a piano and I'm really not pleased at all. It's almost like I've been banned from being in their little club.

So, I leave...after fetching my flute and phone from the piano...and having someone tell me that soon I'm going to have to give that phone up because they're taking back all the phones, and I try to tell them that it's not a work phone, but they don't seem to care. I take it anyway, and begin to leave.

** Okay, let the record show, that in real life, there is absolutely no way I would leave the vicinity of Rob Thomas. It just wouldn't happen. **

Anyway...I leave, and it's like I'm in the basement of someone's house...but I go out, and realize, my car is in the parking garage, and I turn to go back in, and it's hours later, and I'm back in the place where we were practicing...although now it's more like a big room, not a stage...and all those people are still in there, and they've been playing and singing all night. And now I'm really bitter...because I missed all of this.

So, I sit down at a table in the back room...because apparently now there are two rooms...and I try to find some paper to write Rob a note...something along the lines of I'm sorry, and I hope he's feeling better...but then, I have laundry, and I start to fold it.

And that's when I woke up...because really, dreaming about folding laundry? That's just not okay.

Not only do I live in My Own Personal Crazy...I dream in it as well.