Okay, I admit it, I watched the first season of "Lost." Finally. Netflix is useful for non-TV enabled people like me. But that's not the reason I'm having all these number dreams, I hope. I mean, I've moved on to "Firefly" mixed with (please, please, please) season 2 of "Dead Like Me" (first disc comes tomorrow...please).
So tell me, someone, why is some guy that looks a whole lot like one of the scientists at work telling me that 1-8-3-6 is very important. It's the code I'll need for "the thing!" The "very important thing" in that Homer Simpson-esque dream I had the other morning that I have no clue about. I mean, hey, I still remember the number...and bits of the dream even.
Or this afternoon/evening when I came home and collapsed for a couple hours..."176 minutes," spouts the chica in charge of marketing. "Remember not to go past 176 minutes!" Umm, for what? Does the world end? Does the copy machine explode? Does the metal hatch open? 4 minutes shy of 3 hours makes for one super hard-boiled egg. WHAT?!? I don't know.
Are these particular numbers important to anyone else?
Putting on my "dream analysis" hat(...okay it's a Hogwarts baseball cap, sorry), I can pretty much guess that 1, 8, 3, 6? Well, as they were said individually I'm allowed to switch them around, right? So 1863? Yeah, the house number I used to have in Hawai'i. Of the house I owned.
Ummm 176? Hmmm, That used to be my average "teaching"/non-fencing weight. (My fencing weight was 165, no I'm not 6' tall, I really am, in my best Cartman voice, "big-boned" :) cuz no one ever called me fat then. My doctor always wondered where I kept it. Hello? How about those "mammalian protruberances?" as Frank Zappa would say. And umm, yeah, can we say hello to my butt! And no, I was not wielding a piece of metal in his direction at the time.)
Where was I? Right. More anxiety dreams I suppose. Fun times here at Casa de Tactless.
This post was brought to you by the letter T and the number 6.