so last night i dreamt that i was at my dayjob, doing dayjobby things, but then david schwimmer (that's ross from friends!) was my boyfriend, and then i was being hassled by some apparent library executives who were evaluating my work skills, because david schwimmer kept being all cuddly on me while i was supposed to be working.
then some crackheads stole david schwimmer's van. if i remember correctly, it was a wood-paneled van. it was pretty much awesome, and we were pretty pissed off when some crackheads stole it.
then i woke up. i have no idea what david schwimmer had to do with anything, given that i haven't so much as thought about him in a couple of years, and never particularly gave him much thought in the gee-i-wish-he-was-my-boyfriend department.
i blame vicarious drug smokage. i guess i also blame vicarious drug smokage for the fact that i ate ice cream for the first time since forever, and even the cardboard-wafer cone it came in tasted pretty fucking wizard.