Skip to main content

What the fuck was that?

I was standing in my bedroom. It wasn't a bedroom I remembered. but it was mine because there was a painting on the wall that was one of those splatter neon 80's paintings with the word 'Todd' on it hanging on the wall. I get the sense that a child had made it or it was a piece of art I had done as a child. There was a series of coat hooks on the wall as well. A plug in back-massager hung from one of the hooks. I contemplated telling my co-worker that he should get one for his wife for mother's day.

Yes. Co-worker, in my bedroom. One of the other Todds I work with was standing in the closet rattling a piece of paper with 3 signatures on it. He was looking at me smiling. Waiting for me to acknowledge him instead of staring at the painting next to the massager. I finally asked him what he wanted. he said he didn't want to disturb me. I said you should have just said something.

We talked about how the brooklyn store was sending back 10 checkout scanners for us to re-program. And started discussing that the queens store would also be doing the same and the units were set to arrive this morning. As we were talking about the logistics of programming 20 wireless checkout scanners, the doorbell started ringing. Much like a child would ring it (like my old neighbor's children used to ring the doorbell in my previous married life).

I was disgusted that no one was answering, so I went to the door.

Only it was the front door from my childhood home. The hallway and path I took to the door had me coming out of my childhood bedroom. Immediately the UPS men (there were 2 and a female supervisor) started bringing in big boxes. And brought them in to the family room of my old house. One of them was the Operations Manager of our Houston Store.

I wondered why they didn't put the boxes in our living room as it seemed a more logical place. The co-worker was discussing this with my second wife, who had come out of my parents bedroom when the boxes started coming in. She was in the same bathrobe she always used to wear.

As the third one was brought in, the supervisor said to me 'have a nice day Todd.' And I closed the door.

I started to have a discussion about how the Supervisor used to work in our finance department and went on to being a route manager with UPS for their commercial accounts with TD and my ex wife.
It was at that moment that I felt 3 successive taps on my right leg moving from above my knee to my mid thigh much like someone raps their fingers on a desk when they are bored or waiting.  These were enough to wake me straight away from my sleep, uttering the words "What the fuck?" I was completely awake and cognizant of my surroundings. I tried to go back to sleep, but that wasn't working. So...I got up...took a piss and decided to write this dream down.

As I'm sitting here writing, I can hear my neighbors across the courtyard. And what I hope are fireworks and not gun shots. I may throw on some shorts here in a minute and open the door to see what the fuck. Or I may take another percocet and try to go back to sleep.

Either way it was the most fucked up night's sleep I've had in quite a while. And definitely a trippy dream to remember completely.


Popular posts from this blog

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. Yeah. That's all I got.

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

A Tribute to Limozeen may recall that I recently got my very first P.O.S. Electric Guitar back. And you may also recall the folly with the "amp" from Freecycle.

And now, dear readers, I will let you in on the dramatic conclusion to those harrowing tales.

From Bob at work I recently got a Vox Pathfinder 15amp which looks a little (exactly) like this:
I have to say, the amp freakin' rocks. It's got built in tremelo, and this killer overdrive feature which makes the thing sound crunchy as all get out.

So tonight, I decided to try it all out. The amp, the POS Guitar, the FAB distortion pedal (purchased the day of the Sam Ash incident), the Alesis drum machine and the Alesis io2.

The results are just...well, funny.

I give you the theme song to the soon to be hit WB-Series, "My 'Tard Husband." I call it "shortbus." Take a listen here. It's about 3MB in size and 4:14 of unbearable cheese (and the guitars get markedly louder at about the minute mark-you've been …