Lately I’ve been having the worst dreams. Last night I was on a mission for someone, a relative or something. I was supposed to get something from Taco Bell for them. Only the Taco Bell had been shut down, so I was looking for another Taco Bell. I consulted my smartphone. (This might have been the first time I’ve checked Google Maps in a dream. Even so, I’m surprised Google haven’t figured out how to insert ads into that particular user experience.) The next closest Taco Bell was actually a Taco Bell Express inside a Plaid Pantry. But when I got to the Plaid, the Express counter was closed up already and the guy there told me to try a different Plaid Pantry a mile a way. Oddly, these Plaid Pantries were in Tucson, not in the Pacific Northwest, which is when I really should have known it was a dream.
But maybe I did know all along. The entire time I was on this futile quest, I was expending a conscious effort not to grit my teeth as I had forgotten my grind guard last night. But why Taco Bell? Why was that worth all the grief? I don’t know. I was kind of gassy before bed. Maybe that has something to do with it. Or maybe it’s just a portent of the dullest kind of encroaching doom possible.
Either way, this dream doesn’t qualify for any rating other than DUD.