What a Dream

Here's my dream from this morning:

The salon required us to attend a "progressive" church service while we were all out of town in a team-building exercise. My company does not offer team-building in the same sense that the corporate world does. We don't get all-expenses paid trips to Miami. More often we get 8 hour meetings in windowless rooms. So, keep dreaming, Robin. But we do have a helluva holiday party. Be really nice to me, and I may let you come with me in December.

Despite the fact that I am extremely NOT Christian, I willingly attended and sat fairly close to the front. The Jesus talk became increasingly annoying, so I spent most of the time people-watching. There were lots of people sitting in the aisles in sleeping bags. This later reminded me of "Love Week," the annual youth group camping trip at my church. We would sleep in cabins for a week, and pray a lot. Oh yeah, and we stole the boys underwear and tie-dyed it. Yeah. We were such good kids. I wonder how many kids lost their virginity at church camp...

The minister took a break, similar to real church when the choir sings by itself, but instead, the lights dimmed, and a jumbo-tron played a Dominos Pizza commercial. At this point I became so disgusted by the deadly combination of commercialism and blind faith that I stormed out, and noted that Jeffrey and Kitt were right there with me. It was so disturbing to see a commercial in church. But I'm almost positive that churches of the future will have some sort of advertising for "donating" companies. Until they invent pay-per-pray.

We met at the bar and drank Sprite. Really, Sprite. Jeffrey had been craving a diet Sprite at work Thursday afternoon. Guess that left an impression.

The dream then devolved into a Post-Apocalyptic Fight Club in the Wizard of Oz goes to San Francisco scene. That one was just too freaky to describe. So I'll stop here.