Last night I had a dream that all the plumbing techs at my business were moving my mom from one house to another. She was refusing to participate because she was busy resurrecting a relationship with one of her old boyfriends. I got all pissed off and yelled at her and told her she needed to help because we didn't know where she wanted her things. (I also added in that I hated his goatee, but that is about as irrelevant as this entire blog)
This was an intensely weird start to a dream. But not nearly as weird as the part where we all had to sleep in the same room for some reason and I was in a bed between 2 of them trying my absolute hardest not to touch either.
In fact, it got the weirdest when I came in this morning, saw all of the techs gathered to receive their paperwork and decided to actually tell them about said dream. I pulled a Louie and swapped out "we all had to bed down together like animals" for "you ended up having to camp in my back yard". This didn't make it any less awkward that I was telling a group of grown men I had a dream they were all in. I do not look nor do I sound a thing like Judy Garland, so it wasn't even a little bit endearing.
Finally, after a long pause following my story, one of them spoke up with "Um...is this the part where you tell us we have to move your mom?" and another asked "Wait, is your mom even moving?...or are YOU moving?" which lead to several of them asking questions about what this dream meant, how it would affect them, and if there was incentive-based pay involved.
Moral of the story here is: if you expose the sicko depths of your subconscious to your field staff, you will inevitably end up in a conversation about Obamacare and new power tools.
I'm sure this is relatable to EVERYONE.
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