Night of the Living Gila Monster

Woke up after the nice long weekend on Tuesday with a cold/flu thing, complete with sore throat and body aches. That didn’t stop me from hitting two more interviews this week and collecting 5 new business cards for my collection.

But what I really wanted to write about is something really annoying about being sick. The sickness-twisted dreams you have. I mean, the tossing and turning in order to fall asleep is bad enough, but man, the dreams… Last night involved a remote western saloon, where I was hanging out with a few friends, and my cousin Andy. The reason we were at this saloon? It was the only place in the country that was brave enough to play the new Jessica Simpson single. I have no idea what the actual song was, but the reason nobody else was playing it anywhere in the country was because it didn’t fit at all into the rest of Jessica Simpson’s crap. This song was actually good. It was such a perfect blend of so many genres, we could all find something we liked about it. At the same time, we all understood exactly how nobody else in the US or the world could get it. The strangest thing about this place wasn’t the song, or the collection of people listening. It was the parking lot. It was full of gila monsters. As I was about to walk outside to check on my car, the bouncer-type guy put his hand on my chest and said in a horrible Texan-meets-Scottish accent, “Careful o’ them things ou’ there tha’ looks like speckl’d piles o shite. I done stepped on one once and I swears I ain’t never felt a more painful, poi’snous, bitin’ piece o’ shit since.”

And then the worst part of the sickness-induced dreams kicked in… the endless loops of anxiety. It felt like hours that I was walking around this parking lot, carefully stepping over gila monster after gila monster. When I realized I was dreaming, I would force myself awake and try to shake off the dream, but as soon as I drifted off again, I was back in the parking lot. I kept trying to get out, but only after getting myself out of bed, taking an extended bathroom/drink of water/stretch break, could I get back into bed without falling into the dream again.

On the plus side of getting sick, in the past week I’ve rediscovered tea and honey (left over from the Admiral and his world traveler), which has helped my throat immensely.

2 thoughts on “Night of the Living Gila Monster

  1. Andy

    That’s a crazy dream, all right. Funny that I was there. I had a bad fever-induced dream once a long time ago: all I remember is pounding a nail into an atomic bomb (much like the Far Side cartoon with the guy standing behind another ready to pop a paper sack) and when I hit the bomb with the hammer, I immediately woke up with the loudest (yet imaginary) sound ringing in my ears. It sucked.

  2. Ryan

    Perhaps this isn’t the best time to mention that one of my nicknames in high school was Gila Monster (Heala-Monster) – given to me by my baseball coach/biology teacher.

    Thanks for not stepping on me in your dream. Heh.


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