note to self: dreams are not reality

*Looks down shirt*

Oh thank god. Man I hate dreams that feel way too real. I dreamt I got a tattoo that went from my clavicle to all the way down my chest, stopping at like, my nipple. All down my left side.

I also dreamt that I accidentally wandered down the parade for the Octoberfest down the Avenue of the Americas. Which makes no sense as parades go down 5th Avenue.

Also I bought a pair of converse sneakers.

The tattoo thing really freaked me out, I think I woke up to check that I hadn't got a tattoo because my dreamish thought was fuck, now I'll have to cover up all the time when I'm at work.

Also I think the tattoo had Popeye in it.

That's it, brain. You're fired.

I am resisting the urge to title this "gone drinkin'"

Every weekend spend galavanting in Manhattan makes me ever so much more chill about the crazy happenings in my Monday-to-Friday life.

That's a true fact.