I wish mine were normal dreams. Like being naked in the school cafeteria.

Why can’t my nightmares be gore-filled and scary like everyone elses?

I spent last night tossing and turning, not being able to get to sleep until well after three in the morning. When sleep finally came, my dreams weren’t pleasant.

I wasn’t being chased. I wasn’t falling. I wasn’t being sought by a psycho with knives for fingers. In the dream, my editor was tearing up my copy in front of my face and shitting all over it.

“This is fucking garbage! WHAT IS THIS SHIT?!” she screamed, tearing apart the pages of some nondescript dream article.

I am so fucking lame.