Ugh, I can’t sleep.

See, it used to be whenever I had trouble falling asleep I would think about how I’d meet my dream girl, exploring all the possibilities on how we’d end up together and fall in love.  Just holding on to those dreams would put my mind at enough ease that I could finally conk out and get a good night’s rest.  It was my own personal way of counting sheep, and I’d been doing it for years and years.  No matter what shape or form she took, I could always imagine her easily, beautiful and loving and caring.  My hope kept her real, helped me to believe that she was out there, and that it was only time that kept us apart, until such time finally came to an end.

But now I can’t see her anymore.

As hard as I try to imagine, my mind can’t focus enough for her to appear again, and I’m tossing and turning trying to fall asleep, wondering why it’s so hard now to even put a few thoughts together so I can dream about her for just a little while.

If there was ever a solid indication that my dream has finally died though, this would be it.  Maybe my mind is finally coming to terms with the reality that I will never, ever meet someone.  This world has become too evil, too foregone a conclusion, and I myself am just too different, too detached from humanity for it to even be possible anymore.  Maybe if I had been born 50 years ago I might have had a chance.  But not today.

My dream really is over.  I will never sleep again.

A friend of mine recently sent me this humorous cartoon, evidently seeing parallels between the comic strip and my nonexistent dating life. Such a kidder he is (who should be thankful I don’t live close by as I would have kicked the little bastard snot in the face.)

First of all, it’s not nearly accurate (I have a much bigger pillow), but besides that, when is it ever cool to poke fun at someone’s misery, unless it’s me doing the poking? That’s just wrong on so many levels.

What really irks me though is the fact that this poor kid in the cartoon can only dream about meeting his soulmate (particularly over the Internet), and yet people I know have met the love of their lives in much the same way, only in their case it was for real.

Would you really hold it against me then if I hoped the earth would open up and release a Cloverfield type monster that was designed for no other purpose than to crash their wedding? Just the thought of it chewing up the bride and spitting the little whore-slut out in bitty bits while the groom can only look on in horror…. Whoo! It just makes me tingle with warm fuzzlies, ya know?

A few years ago, I had a really vivid dream where I briefly met… the one. I was sitting in a Subway restaurant when all of a sudden she just appeared, sitting across from me and holding my hand. I couldn’t see her face too clearly, but she was thin, had long blonde hair, and a beautiful smile. I knew I was dreaming too, which for me is very rare, in fact it may have been the first time I was ever aware that I was in a dream. I could feel myself waking up too, and I held on to her hand desperately, not willing to let her go.

She continued to smile at me, her face at peace, her fingers interlocked with mine, and promised me that I would see her soon.

And then she was gone.

Usually I dismiss most of my dreams as being sheer nonsense (including the dreams where I’m Spider-man), but because this one was so vivid, and because I knew I was dreaming, I have to wonder… was she real? Does the girl of my dreams really have blonde hair and a gorgeous smile? Will I meet her in a Subway restaurant someday?

I do know one thing: I’ve made Subway a WHOLE lot richer now ever since I had that dream.

It’s true though, and since I’m a romantic at heart, I make a point of stopping by every Subway joint I come across, just to see if there’s a cute blonde inside snacking on a veggie sandwich.

The other day I got into a discussion with a friend of mine about who the new object of my affection should be, now that Jessica Alba has broken my heart. Of course he suggested that I knock it off, go to church and find myself a nice, morally upright Christian girl to be with.

Interestingly enough, that same night I had a dream: I was talking to a guy I knew from work, and he was telling me about a church I should join that was soon planning a revival meeting. Then he introduced me to three girls wearing skimpy bikinis who were also members of that church. They were all ready and willing to, um… take care of my “needs,” you know, in the spirit of true Christian fellowship and love. Hot looking babes too.

Well ok then.

Seriously, I’ve heard of churches being seeker sensitive here, but that was just silly. I remember being too bewildered to give a response to this, but I did know no way in hell was I gonna go for this. For those of you wondering how I could be so stupid to turn down the offer of getting knocked up by three chicks (for free), the reason is simple: I have morals, you don’t.

The dream did represent one or two things to me: either it was a warning on the state of Christian churches today and how I was being right to avoid it, or it was a manifestation of my acidic hatred for any association or group that has the word “church” in its name. Or maybe both.

In any event, I really would like to believe that by being in a company of believers, I would eventually come across a wonderful girl who would be the “one.” Someone who would truly love me for who I am, who would end up being the better half that I’ve been searching for all my life.

I would like to believe that. But I don’t.

The only time I really enjoy my dreams is when I’m on an epic adventure of some sort, or when I’m a superhero like Spider-man, or when I’m getting some serious loving from a really hot babe.

Not last night though. Last night I’m on this bus right, and there is this seriously smokin’ hot girl with the most intense blue eyes I’ve ever seen also riding on the bus. Of course, me being my charming self was able to draw her attention and we ended up kissing. Only when we kiss, I don’t see her, I see this meter instead, which is analyzing how good I’m kissing her and of course the reading is really LOW, so it’s basically telling me that I suck at it. Then the girl kisses me back and the meter’s readings suddenly goes off the chart. Of course.

But even then, I can’t enjoy the experience because all I see is this fricking meter, and on top of that I got Bill Clinton sitting next to me on the bus. Seriously. I swear dude, if there was anybody who could kill the romance, this guy would be it. And he’s looking at me with this smirk on his face as if to say, “I could do better.”

What a night.

After a long, grueling day at work, I finally signed out and booked out of here as fast as I could. There was only one problem though.

My car battery was dead.

When I came to work today, several news vans had parked (and doubled parked) in spaces I usually took, and since I was in a hurry, I turned on my hazard lights, doubled parked my car as well, and ran inside so I could sign in on time. I came back out again, found another parking space to stash my car, and yep, I forgot to turn off the hazard lights.

Mother@#$%.

I didn’t want to embarrass myself by asking around here for somebody to help jumpstart my car, so I called up roadside assistance, figuring it wouldn’t be a big deal for them to send somebody over to quickly get me up and running again.

Good grief, it was like I had called the DMV.

“What is your VIN number?”

“What is the make and model of your vehicle?”

“What is your call back number?”

“What is your current home address?”

“What is your work address?”

“What is the color of your vehicle?”

Color???? Who gives a crap what color it is?? Just send somebody over here to jumpstart it already so I can go home, dammit!!!!!!!!

FINALLY, the operator informed me that someone would shortly arrive and that I would get two automated calls to confirm the service truck’s arrival.

I get the first call: “Your service truck is estimated to arrive in one hour.”

Fortunately the guy came sooner than that. On my way out to greet him, I passed by a couple of young lawyers, a guy and a girl who worked out of our case assessment office. They were stepping out too but ignored me. The guy was built, clean cut, and nicely dressed in a sharp suit, and the girl of course was a gorgeous looking brunette. I looked at them and felt ashamed. I was in rags of a uniform, a 5 o’ clock shadow on my face, with sad, broken eyes whose fire had died out a long time ago. I looked at them for a long moment. Accomplished people. Happy people. Something I would never become, a life that I would never have. I quickened my pace to get away from them and headed up the street

The service guy was a friendly dude who arrived in a minivan. When he stepped out, I noticed he was missing some of his front teeth.

“Awww kay, ley me paww ze ood herr.”

“Uh, ok.”

A few minutes later my precious baby roared to life once again.

“Awwwkay! Yor awww goods zuu go.”

I thanked him, jumped in and floored it. I wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and get away from this weary life. To sleep and dream, and perhaps never wake up again.

Last night I had the strangest dream…

For some reason I was on a journey, traveling up this road where I was eventually joined by my brother. We were passing by this ranch that was having a festival, kids running around, riding ponies, everyone having a good time, and this song was playing from somewhere, a song I recognized from years ago:

“Don’t wanna lose to loneliness…
Girl I know we can win!
Don’t want to lose to emptiness, oh no…
Never again!

Don’t wanna lose you now…
Baby, I know we can win this!
Don’t wanna lose you now…
No no, or ever again!”

Yep, Backstreet Boys. Y’all can stop snickering now. Truth is though, I hadn’t heard this song in over 7 years, so it’s a bit weird (to say the least) that it would come up in a dream now. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever dreamt about an actual song too, especially one I’ve since completely forgotten about.

Tell me, what does that mean?