So in my dream this morning, I was working in something like a newsagency, except bigger with more staff and it was run by Richard Branson. I also seemed to have bags of my old shoes there, along with a bag of the stuffed toys I had as a child. Justin Beiber (sp?) wanted one of the used toys. I offered the large fuzzy mouse, but he only wanted the chicken slippers.
Richard said there was lots of good buzz about me and I was an up and comer.
Then I woke up and Blossom-cat, who had been playing with one of my shoes, decided to leap on the bed - however a claw had still been attached to the shoe (which is a very light slipper type shoe) and consequently it was flung up a-la sling-shot and smacked me in the face.
Good morning, I think?
Really.
ReplyDeleteYou couldn't pay for that sort of therapy.
There's nothing that gets you off to a good start like a slap in the face with an article of footwear.
Was Richard naked?
Thankfully not nekkid - he was going through the bookwork and a bit snippy and cranky.
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