Only in my dreams

Last night I dreamed that my mother was dating George Zimmer from the Men's Warehouse commercials. You know, the guy who says "I guarantee it!" (And in case you're frightened right now, I want you to know that I had to look up his name. I didn't just know it.)

It was a very disturbing dream: my parents, who in real life are in the process of getting a divorce, were reconciling, but then I found out my mom was cheating with that nasty smoker-voiced bastard Zimmer and I HIT THE ROOF. I yelled at her, and then I yelled at him, and then I stormed angrily out of the big white house in which we were all brunching (don't ask me how I wound up at a brunch with my parents and the Men's Warehouse guy, because I won't have a satisfactory answer for you). I was furious, and I woke up furious, which is not the greatest way to start the day.

To top it off, it appears the rain has returned to our beautiful Willamette Valley. Grey skies do nothing to assuage the pain of discovering your mother is two-timing your father with George Zimmer. Consider me disillusioned.