I Dream of Mitt

                                                                           

In this picture, Mitt looks psychotic enough to actually perpetrate the actions that took place in my dream.

I went to sleep at 11:15 last night, which is unusually early for me. Unfortunately, a long night of sleep was not to be. I woke up a few minutes ago from a strange dream about Mitt Romney. In the dream, Mitt came to my medical school for some undisclosed reason. He ended up holding the entire cohort of Quarter 1 students hostage with a syringe full of what he said was blood saturated with the ebola virus.

Mitt told the students that he could inject everyone, or that the group could select a single candidate to be the recipient of the entire syringe full of ebola-contaminated blood. Anyone who has read more than one or two of my blogs is very likely aware of my rather intense persecution complex. Of course my classmates unanimously elected me to be injected with the ebola-drenched blood in my dream.

I was not going to be Mitt's willing victim, however, and a chase ensued, initially between just Mitt and me, but eventually involving the entire cohort. I hid inside a refrigerated drawer in the anatomy lab, keeping thee drawer open just enough so that I wouldn't suffocate. It was my hope that Mitt wouldn't notice that the drawer was open ever so slightly. He didn't notice at first. He opened numerous drawers in the lab, revealing numerous cadavers; I could see him through the opening as he injected each cadaver he saw.

I couldn't deduce why he was injecting bodies that were already dead, but eventually it occurred to me that when Mitt finally found and injected me, the syringe would not only contain the ebola virus but the germs of almost every cadaver in the lab. I knew I must act.

When Mitt stepped near a walk-in freezer opening, I sprang from my drawer, opened the walk-in freezer door, and pushed Mitt inside. He couldn't get out. Then my classmates  found me in the anatomy lab. I smiled at them and asked that someone call the authorities. My classmates had no interest in doing so. They wanted to deliver me to Mitt.

I tried to explain to the dullards that Mitt was no longer a threat, and that their earlier vote to sacrifice me for their own well being was moot since Mitt was, in essence, captured, but no one saw any logic in my reasoning.  Another chase pursued. I locked myself into an empty office and was in the process of  climbing out an upstairs window into a tree when I woke up. At least I wasn't acting out my dream this time and did not wake up to find myself actually crawling out a window of the condominium.

I tried going back to sleep, but any additional sleep beyond the two-and-one-half hours I already got seems to be a lost cause.  At least my cat was kind enough to ask to be let out of my brother's room, where she has taken to spending her nights, so that I do not have to sit out  the remainder of this night alone.

He doesn't look all that stable in this pic, either.