I'm Done

Ok that is it. That is IT. I've had it. I'm done with my subconscious. I'm done with my consciousness. I am so over myself it's not even funny. When do I get to look back and laugh already?

Here's the latest offering from the depths of my horribly unfunny mind:

First of all, I'm in this strange house where every room is dedicated to some kind of sex play. Um...I don't even know how that's possible considering the breadth of my exposure.

Second of all, I'm half naked in one of these rooms with a guy (who I of course don't know and of course can't remember his face) who is also half naked.

Good start to a dream if one is to be had, no?

So we're making out, great, great, great...suddenly he rolls over and turns on the TV. Are you ready for this? It's wrestling. Incredibly this doesn't deter me. I throw myself across him and say, "You know, this isn't really turning me on."

He says, "Yeah, me either," and continues to watch.

Again, incredibly, I still try apparently thinking the direct approach has a chance in hell of working.

"I really want to have sex with you."

He sighs. He actually sighs and says, "Oh ok" like I'm putting him out.

He gets up to turn out the light and I wake up. Unfulfilled. Again.

Seriously? Someone just put me out of my misery.