You Suck, Brain

I had a very odd dream last night. Actually, it was more of a calm nightmare. A few of my friends and I were sitting in an outdoorish food court. I got a cup from McDonald’s or something and filled it with water from some other restaurant. After drinking it for a while, I looked inside the cup and noticed that there was mold and fungus growing everywhere inside the cup.

I went up to the cashier and demanded a free sandwich because of the disgusting cup I just drank out of. This seemed like an appropriate request at the time. He looked at me and explained that the cup was from McDonald’s, so he doesn’t owe me shit.

Stumped, I went back and sat down with my friends.

That’s all I can really remember, but I can definitely identify some of the real-life occurrences that may have resulted in the creation of this dream.

I think the cashier incident resembles my run-in with the manager at Wendy’s. In both cases, I was publicly humiliated and accomplished nothing.

The outdoorish food court must have been from when I ate at Chipotle last weekend. Or maybe it was from when I ate at a food court at the Palisades Mall. I’m not really sure.

What I am sure of, however, is that the moldy cup was definitely a manifestation of the fact that last week, I ate mold. I was sitting in my room, happily eating Tostitos with queso and surfing the net. After a while, I looked into the queso jar and noticed a green, fuzzy, coin-sized patch of mold growing inside the container. I gagged a bit and died a little on the inside.

I proceeded to wipe my tongue with a paper towel, as if that would change the fact that I probably swallowed numerous colonies of fungus.

This dream must have been my brain reminding me of an incident I tried to repress deep within the inner workings of my mind. And for that, you suck, brain.