Dreams. Really Weird Dreams.

I had a dream this morning I was working with NCIS. I actually had Gibbs’ phone number and could call him whenever I wanted. The weird part was, neither he nor any other member of the team were actually IN the dream.

I was driving a school bus, but I was attending the school. At first I thought I was going into 8th grade, then I realized (in this dream) I was older, and I was really going into 10th grade. (Apparently I can rationalize in my dreams…?) But driving this bus was crazy hard because there were all these other, nicer, busses in my way. One tried to run me off the road at one point.

As I was driving past the school (not any school I ever recall seeing), a gunman stuck himself out a window, a rifle in hand, and started shooting. At who or what, I couldn’t tell. But I got on my phone, called Gibbs, and let him know we had a shooter in the northwest side of the building. It was the teachers’ conference room. How I knew that, I’ll never know.

Gibbs, being Gibbs, told me not to worry about it. They had it handled. I assume he meant Ziva, McGee and DiNozo, but I have no clue who was on my team (or from what season this dream was taking place). Anyway, Gibbs told me to go home. They had it. I told him I’d be in Ops.

Fast forward (because we can do that in dreams) to walking toward the school. The bus is now long gone, and it would appear this mall-looking school is on top of a hill. As I climb the hills, however, I notice the businesses around it are either high-end retail – like really high-end, to the point I couldn’t afford the buckle on the shoe – and bars. The colors were vivid though. Reds and greens and blues. For some reason that stood out to me.

Of course, what would a good dream be without some hot, muscular guy coming out of a bar and running past me in a tux, minus the jacket? Yep, that happened. I don’t know what the significance of that was, but … eye candy??

Oh, and then two pigs came squealing down the hill. Running. Do pigs even run? And why were they in the middle of a street in a commercial area?

I’ve gotta stop eating peanut butter before I got to bed.

But I’m not done. Oh no. It continues… Walking inside this “school” looked more like the insides of a mall. Wide passageways, carpeted, everyone walking in the same direction. It was eerie (and where I figured out I was a sophomore – phew!).

I finally get to this place. I’m not sure exactly where it was, but it was a bar. Because all schools have bars, right? And some guy was sitting next to me. He kept touching me. I didn’t know him, but he would touch my arm, my hand … and then *poof* I’m walking down a hallway where two girls are being questioned about their shoes. Yeh, shoes.

One girl had tiny feet, but it appeared she had only four toes, and it they looked more like chicken feet than human. And … here foot was on TOP of the shoe. She had duct-tape wrapped around her foot, ankle and halfway up her leg to keep the shoe on her foot. The other girl had normal human feet, but it was as if her feet were on top of moon boots (remember those?) and then duct-taped on. They were getting in trouble for violating some dress code.

Turns out, they were two of the bad people.

So I follow them into a room, naturally, and take a seat. People are getting settled as if class is going to start, but the chairs are situated weird. They were in a half circle and zig-zagged. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I sat in a “back” zig zag. As soon as I sat down, though, one of the girls with the weird shoe thing turned around. Her face became really big in front of mine and she just stared at me. For a long time.

And then they started spitting on us.

In a very short time, I concluded they had some poison or disease they were transmitting through their spit.

Flash to a bunch of people standing in lines, not unlike what you see at an amusement park or DisneyWorld. Except, nearly simultaneously, everyone started passing out. It was a domino effect.
When it got to be my turn, I didn’t feel anything different. It was as if I was immune somehow. I didn’t want to get caught, so I played along. I dropped to the floor and pretended to be passed out.

Behind me, the so-called leader, who had apparently taken over for their real leader because they were ill or something (seriously, how did I now know the ins-and-outs of their mess!?) was cheering and running around like she had scored a victory. There was a water fountain there, and suddenly it was like she and her posse were a flash mob. They started singing and dancing, completely unaware of what was happening around them.

With their backs all to me as they sat with their feet in the fountain, I watched in wonder. Who were these people and what did they want?

Then, some little device fell at my feet. It was like a tiny black, plastic gun. But it shot liquid. It really was more like the inner workings of a Windex bottle. Whatever they were spitting at us was miraculously coming out of this black thing. There was no supply on it, just the spraying mechanism. So, I started spraying the people that had missed getting spit on so they were knocked out, too.

Suddenly, the leader, who was still sitting in the fountain, whips her head around to look at me. How she knew I was spraying people is beyond me.

Flash to me and the leader being all buddy-buddy and walking through hallways that led to multiple secret passageways. I knew I was gaining her trust, which was good, but I needed to find a way to talk to Gibbs. To let him know he had a man on the inside. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to do it.

By this time, I’d been given a pack to wear. It must have had whatever I’d need so I was truly immune to whatever they were spreading. It was a white box, the size of a power adapter, with white tubing. I was affixed to my lower back.

The leader took me into her secret room where another person was sleeping. She left for some reason, leaving me with the sleeping guy. He woke up and I told him I needed to use the restroom. I needed to go somewhere so I could call Gibbs. He rolled over and told me the males of this species (or whatever they were) had it easy – they could just go in their pants.

Well, isn’t that nice for THEM.

He pointed where the bathroom was and I went there. There were two doors to the stall, which was TINY. It was just barely wide enough for me to stand normally. There was a screen door, and then an interior, solid door. I went inside and tried to lock it, but there was no lock.

I sat down, and suddenly, the leader was back. She pushed the door toward me (the whole door, like it didn’t have hinges so it was flying back at me) and her face had morphed into this monster. Her head was two to three times the size it was at first, and her eyes were huge, like she had gotten Bonked (that new app from “The Tonight Show.”)

And then I woke up.



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