Dreams

NASCAR Dreams

Had a NASCAR dream the other night. It wasn't so much a NASCAR dream as a dream that used the logical and the illogical, sprinkled in a couple of NASCAR drivers, and resulted in me waking up with a very audible "...the HELL?"

1. I was on a reality dating show. "Dating Elliott Sadler", or something along those lines (there was an actual show title in the dream - I've since lost what it was).

2. In my dream I knew that there was no way in hell I was winning and kept questioning why they'd even selected me to be on. (Apparently either I didn't know they were putting me on a dating show or didn't know Elliott was the prize. Either way, I kept questioning why I'd be competing against other women for a guy that I didn't know was suitable for me.)

3. Left the Elliott Sadler Dating Show for some unknown reason and was driving out of Mooresville...and as I was approaching DEI I came across Junior, who was walking down the road. Teresa had just fired him.

4. Became a sort of mother for Junior and was trying to help him find himself. Apparently finding himself included working at a shop where he had to dress up as a pirate. He enjoyed the wenches. I'm still trying to grasp the mental image of Junior as a pirate. There was an earring. And a do-rag. Also eyeliner, but only on the right eye.

Also in the dream - a big lake, a black bear, stupid children swimming in a lake with a black bear (who I yelled at, because no way was I going in the lake to get the kid out), my mother's house, and her cats.

Plotting the eminent demise of...

I have just spent the last hour dealing with email problems involving our work spam filter. Not writing dirtywrong Stewart/Harvick prank fic. Not emailing with friends. Fixing a problem that turns out to be nonexistent.

See, seems coworkers got confused when I named the spam filtering company and asked who was having problems. Some of their problems were with the spam filtering company, which we've found and fixed and we've informed them of what they need to do in the future. But other problems consisted of two emails a WEEK going into a junk email folder in their email system, a folder they can clearly see and tell there is email in. They can read it. They can respond to it. There is no problem!

And I spent an hour today going back and forth before realizing this. Two seconds of instruction per person and they understand, should an email go in there, open it, click the "Not Junk" icon and bam! Fixed!

*sigh*

Tony's gonna be cussing even harder because he stayed locked in that bathroom, naked, a whole hour longer.