Last night, I had a strange dream. Strange dreams are almost normal for me by now, but this was a really strange dream, even for me. I dreamed I was still a reporter and had to go cover the parole hearing of a Manson follower to see if she got parole this time. I arrived at the courthouse a little early and went to the ladies room. While I was in the loo checking my make-up and such, the woman in question and a man with wild, crazy hair and eyes burst in, held me at gunpoint and forced me to help them escape. That's when I realized the man was Manson himself.
Somehow (and no, I don't remember exactly how it happened), we got outside and to my car, but only after they shot and killed a security guard. They forced me to drive them way out into the country, where they jumped out of my car and got into a car they had waiting for them out near the water tower on Gunnell Road in Scott County (yes, I know the water tower isn't really that far out in the country anymore, but in my dream it was). They then shot me in the head and left me for dead - except the bullet didn't kill me, it just deflected off my skull and left me with a raging headache. I was able to make it back to my car and drive myself home.
When I got there, I immediately called Jessi because I knew she was interested in the Manson case. She came over and I told her the story of what happened, insisting she not tell anyone it was me who helped them escape because I didn't want to go to jail for something I was forced to do. (How on earth I rationalized that no one had run my plates or identified me, I don't remember.) Jessi agreed but insisted I had to go to the ER to have my head wound looked at. I told her she was crazy because they would report a bullet wound, no matter how slight, to the police and then they would figure out it was me who helped Manson and his lady escape. But Jessi insisted so we wound up at UK hospital where we ran into Jamie R., who was a nurse there. So Jessi starts telling Jamie R. the story, even though I swore her to secrecy. But Jessi replied, "Well, you'll just blog about it anyway, so I might as well tell her." About this time, my cell phone rings and it's Manson on the line telling me he has my son and he is going to raise him as a disciple. This is when I started freaking out big time and woke up.
See? Strange dream. Very vivid and much more realistic than my usual dreams. I think I may have to stop taking Zyrtec at night. I've had freakazoid dreams ever since I started taking it. Although I did watch a very freaky episode of Doctor Who about werewolves and Queen Victoria last night before bed, I doubt my dream came from watching that becuase 1) no werewolves, 2) no Queen Victoria and 3) no time travel. Only Manson. Lots and lots of freaky Manson. I can live without Manson in my head, thank you very much.