I had a dream last night which wasn't really like a dream at all. All the dream was was a flashback of late August when I was at Quiznos. I naturally wanted the Mesquite Chicken sandwich but the guy behind the counter told me that people preferred the new Chicken Milano 10:1 compared to any other thing on the menu. Now that's pretty good for a sandwich so I took him up on his offer and got the Milano instead of the Mesquite. I sat down at the table with my root beer and took a bite. Long story short, I realized that the sandwich I had in front of me was horrendously bad and I longed for my Mesquite.
Needless to say, I woke up from the dream crying.
The dream also reminded me that on that same day I had gone to the driving range and hit the ball picker-upper guy with a nice lofting 9 iron. This in turn reminded me of the time back when I was about 15 and had hit the ball picker-upper guy and he had gotten really mad and came over and threatened to break all my clubs.
P.S. Today in lab we induced Parkinson's disease in a rat.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment