Dreams: Proof my Subconscious is on Drugs

Last night I had quite a strange dream.

After going to a sort of country fair with my friends Wife and English, I went for a morning walk with Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Director Leon Vance. Why, yes, I have been watching too much NCIS. Why do you ask?

On our walk, we happened upon the body of a man. Since he wasn't dead (but was presumably a marine), I took him home. Yes. Much like finding a stray cat, or a hurt bird you find and place in a shoebox so as to bring to the vet without getting your smell all over him, I adopted this stray marine.

He was asleep, or unconscious anyway, so when we got home I put him on my couch because I am a beast and can carry heavy muscley men all by myself like that. Apparently the house I live in in dream world is full to the brim with people, and is like the clown car of houses. I don't even know some of the people living there. I vaguely remember some older gentleman shaving in the bathroom mirror, but I have no idea who he was as he was not Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Sigh! Too bad!

My former college roommate lived with me too, and maybe even some of my own family. I really can't be sure, there were just that many people.

When the marine started to awaken, my two cats (who in real life hate each other) jumped all over him, and were beyond friendly with him AND each other, nuzzling and snuggling all over the place. It was a miracle! Everyone in the house was in awe. This miracle marine magically made warring felines friends! Huzzah!

He was also ridiculously good looking. Duh.

We talked a bit and I explained we found him and I took him in. Much flirting occurred.

As soon as I thought, "Hey, maybe this is going somewhere!" CLICK! "She's just a small town girl. Living in a loooonely woooorld!" My alarm clock abruptly woke me from my restful reverie. Always when it's gettin' good! Dangit, Wednesday Morning! So not fair!

This, however, is why dream analysis is useless for me. Those handy dandy dictionary-like guides never have quite specific enough categories: "Rescued sleeping marine with Snow White-like effect on animals" or "Clown car home with strangers, friends and battling cats" just aren't in there.

If anyone feels like reading into this subconscious mess further, feel free.

I do have a request, though. Next time, Subconscious, I wouldn't oppose a dream about finding a near frozen McGee and DiNozzo, and, in order to save them both from hypothermia, I, being the wonderful human being that I am, sacrifice my modesty, stripping us all down and sandwiching myself between them so that my body warmth may save them from their icy and deadly fate!

But, you know, just a suggestion.