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You know the song. “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (bum bum bum bum)…” Well, Mr. Sandman certainly has a sense of humor sometimes. Maybe it’s my time-of-the-month hormones that are raging, but I had a doozy of a dream last night!

There I was, in a department store in a mall. I seem to have been shopping for vacation clothes with a gorgeous man (a man I’ve never met or seen before). Of course, one thing leads to another and we end up in the dressing room. He is hot and sexy, pressing me up against the wall of the dressing room, kissing me everywhere, undressing me, I am removing his belt, his pants. He is kissing me hard, I am dying with anticipation, I want him so badly…

Then, the unthinkable happens: the store manager and a sales clerk break in on us. They are angry, we are shocked and caught off guard (to say the least). The manager yells that they are trying to close the store and go home and we are selfishly preventing him from going home to his wife and kids. The sales clerk he is with is quiet with an apologetic look on her face. The manager insists he will call the police unless we help him clean up the dressing room of all the clothes we brought back with us to try on. I agree. My mystery man, completely affronted, is disinclined to help. While I try to smooth things over with Mr. Man, I agree to help clean up and meet him in the parking lot. He’ll go get the car and wait for me. Ready, go.

Mr. Man leaves and I am left cleaning up the dressing room, which morphs into one of those large communal dressing rooms except this one has a red carpet. I am frantically throwing clothes in boxes, trying to make small talk with the sales girl, but trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Finally, I am free and I take off running out into the mall, which is closed and dark and creepy.

Eventually I end up in the parking lot (don’t ask me how – dreams are funny like that). The parking lot is full of police, fire trucks, and tour buses. Lots of flashy lights, flood lights, etc. I am aimlessly wandering around the parking lot looking for Mr. Man and I am completely unable to find him. Finally, I more or less give up looking, standing on one of those concrete/grass islands in big parking lots, and I see his car driving across the parking lot. Of course, I assume he’s looking for me, so I call his cell and he doesn’t answer. I call out his name, but he is too far to hear me.

Then, I run into the cranky store manager who caused all my problems in the first place. I am just about to ask him, annoyed, for a ride home when I wake up.

So, I ask: Mr. Sandman, wtf?

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