I somehow found a spreadsheet that listed assigned targets for a bunch of US gov’t hitmen. I don’t remember how I got the spreadsheet.
I thought it was a hoax at first until I heard on the news that somebody just died, and then sure enough, they were on the spreadsheet. Then I saw how I was being followed around the zoo by an old beat-up VW bug. Yeah, the whole dream took place at the zoo. And I was 17 or so. And I didn’t have any shoes on.
While I was running around the zoo, I decided I needed to upload the file on lots of servers, and set up some kind of dead-man switch where it would automatically be visible to lots of people unless I kept verifying that I hadn’t been killed or disappeared. That would be my insurance in case the old Chinese man driving the VW bug caught me (did I mention that he was Chinese? That was a later discovery).
So, the rest of the dream got pretty chaotic at this point. I kept sliding through a bunch of scenes where I was either writing my dead-man script, or running through the zoo snack bar while avoiding my pursuers, or having to explain the situation to anybody else who also had the spreadsheet, but thought it was just a hoax like I initially did.
Then I woke up and all day today I’ve been having intrusive thoughts about how I really need to finish the god-damn script and get the hell out of the office before that crusty old Chinese dude drives up in Herbie.
So here’s the point — what the fuck do they put in the food at Don Tequila’s? The food was your standard Taqueria-grade Mexican slop, except with a fat dose of mescaline in the ranchero sauce. I don’t think I’ll be going back, at least not on a school night. I got enough anxiety as it is.