Mr. Sandman, this isn’t what I meant when I asked you to bring me a dream…you really missed the mark on this one…

I had high hopes for today, or the highest of hopes you could have for a super busy Monday after a week and a half off of patients. I had come to terms with the amount of suck that today would be, in other words. Until that bitch at chick-fil-a pissed me off. It wasn’t a real interaction and I didn’t really go to Chick-fil-a today, but I did in my dream and that dumb bitch almost got her ass handed to her.

So let me set the tone, because it doesn’t make any sense in real life. In my weird dream land brain I was camping? Maybe? I’m honestly not really sure how I ended up where I was. But, I was at, what I believe to be, a Chick-fil-a. I don’t have any real reason to believe it was a Chick-fil-a because there was no advertising, I just felt like it was Chick-fil-a, it didn’t even have any actual Chick-fil-a food options. It wasn’t even a real building or anything, it was like picnic tables and a soda machine set up under a tarp. I don’t even know where they cooked the food. Any way! So I order my food and make my way down to the end where the little blond bitch is making food and pouring the drinks and whatever. In weirdo dream land we pay with bank deposit slips and not money at all, you know, because that makes sense. So I’m there and ready to pay and the girl is whispering/mumbling the amount I owe, which ended up being $67.81… most expensive fast food ever. I can’t hear what she’s saying so I ask her three times what it was and then SHE gets mad at ME for having to ask, we get into a verbal altercation which quickly escalates into yelling, but I get the total and start to search for the right bank deposit slip to pay with and SHE gets mad at ME for taking too long. Needless to say things begin to escalate even quicker from there and I’m this close to hopping over the picnic table separating us and throat punching the shit out of her. Some other employee comes over and tries to quell the incident, things simmer down for a hot minute and the dumb bitch goes to make my food. Being the little C-word that she was I had to yell at her over the intercepting employee for her not to spit in my food because, and I quote, ‘I will kick you so hard in the baby maker that your non existent babies will start falling out of your whore cooch if you do.’ I don’t remember what happened next but then I’m sitting on the picnic table bench waiting for my food and she comes around to my side of the tracks, without my food!, and starts chatting up the other employee that’s sitting next to me making sure I don’t go on a baby maker kicking rampage, thus angering me further because hanger is a real thing and so is stupid c-word bitches that are supposed to be making my food. Obviously I am not happy and start kicking her in the back of the knees trying to make her fall over, because this is my form of passive aggressive behavior to try to get the dumb idiot back in the kitchen to make my food. She, for some reason, doesn’t like my hinting and starts to come at me and as i’m getting up to start ‘moving furniture’ as one might say, my alarm goes off and I have to wake up. I hit snooze and try to go back to sleep because now i’m angry about the dream but even more angry that I haven’t had the satisfaction of punching this bitch right in the uterus. By the time I’m back at the scene of the crime and am about to take care of bidness my alarm goes off again… There are just no words for how much pent up anger was surging through my body at this moment.

I don’t know what this all subconsciously means, but all I know is that now I want Chick-fil-a and to demolish some dumb idiots baby maker with my foot so hard that babies will form and just fall out of her cooch… and this is why I don’t have very many female friends and shouldn’t go to bed on an empty tum tum.

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