Last Saturday was a fantastic day. I woke up very early (for a Saturday, anyways...like 8am) on a fairly comfortable couch (thanks Phil!) and went to get my oil changed and my tires rotated. I sat in the very pleasant El Dorado Hills Town Center at The Coffee Shop Formerly Known as Habit and had a cup of tea. Later that morning, LZ and I washed our cars and then I got two (TWO) haircuts, the latter being a buzzcut.
I went on a positively delightful twelve-mile bike ride around Lake Natomas. Bear in mind, I hadn't been on a bike for any extended period of time since the 5th grade, when my brother Patrick borrowed my bike and left it in the neighbor's driveway, whereupon the neighbor accidentally backed over it. Thanks, Pat.
That evening, I got on my fanciest clothes, including a pink (fine, lavender) shirt/paisley tie combo and had an absolute blast at Jeff and Kelly's engagement party. The day/night was action packed and almost entirely awesome.
And then I went to sleep.
In my dream, my "wife" and I decided to, for whatever reason, adopt a baby. But it was the future, and in the future you don't have to wait till a baby is born to adopt it. No, sir. In the future, you can adopt a baby before it is born. It is (annnnnd here's where it begins to get creepy) extracted from the mother's womb and then placed (annnnnd here's where it gets REALLY creepy) in a...plastic bag. This is...sealed with a light adhesive. I know. The bag serves as an incubator of sorts and the baby is not to be removed from the bag until the baby opens the bag itself. Sort of like a baby bird in an egg.
Oh, and the baby (inside of the bag, mind you) is to be placed in the refrigerator. Which doesn't make a lick of sense, of course, since a mother's womb is warm. But whatever, it's not like that makes any less sense than incubating a baby in a plastic bag, sealed shut with only a light adhesive.
Wife and I bring our unborn-but-not-in-the-womb baby home and place it in the refrigerator and go to bed. It's sort of like making Jell-O, when you think about it.
The next morning we go check on our Jell-O and, to our horror, the bag has become unsealed. We each blame the other. I quickly read the instructions on the bag. It says if the bag comes unsealed, rush the baby to the hospital immediately. But... instead of doing the sensible thing, we panic. The baby is now alive/conscious/alert and we think, "It must be hungry! We have to feed it!" So we make a bottle of baby formula for it and try to feed it, despite the instructions on the bag specifically instructing us NOT to feed it anything. I'm gonna be a great dad.
We then seal the bag back up and place it in the fridge.
A couple hours later I open the fridge and...I am horrified. The baby has regurgitated all the formula, which has turned sort of gelatinous and filled the top half of the bag.
At that point I wake up, horrified that my baby has asphyxiated on its own vomit.
I am sorry to have disturbed every person who reads this, but I felt it would be therapeutic for me if you all had to suffer like I did.