First, I have this atrocious lamp that’s taller than me that I’m getting rid of, so it’s outside my room, and I just walked upstairs in the dark and lost my mind for a second because I stopped right in front of it and thought it was a person. My heart’s still racing a bit.
Last night I dreamed that I was standing in the parking lot near Moe’s with the cast of Empire and half the Red Sox. My Inception moment(when I realize I’m dreaming) came when I noticed that this really random guy I went to CIU with for a year was there, and I start yelling “YOU AREN’T NUMBER SIXTEEN, DEVEN MARRERO IS NUMBER SIXTEEN WHICH IS WEIRD BECAUSE HIS TWITTER NAME IS @DMARRERO17 BUT THE POINT IS YOU DON’T PLAY FOR THE RED SOX AND THIS ISN’T REAL.” So David Price and Taraji P Henson grab my hands and start dragging me home.
I still think of David Price as a Blue Jay. It’s weird that he’s with us now.
I think the fact that I can remember all their jersey numbers correctly in my sleep(because Blake Swihart and Xander Bogaerts and Mookie Betts all had the right ones; Brock Holt even had his new #12) is proof that I think about baseball way too much.
But I don’t watch Empire…so I don’t know where my brain comes up with this stuff.