It sounds like a cliche marketing line, but here it refers to a dream I had the other night about Tyler. Still sounds lovey dovey, but I assure you it isn't all that sweet.
For whatever ridiculous reason, I dreamt that Tyler was hanging out with an old high school friend of mine (whom I haven't seen in years) and I came home to find that they'd gotten into some paint and decide to make handprints all throughout the house. Makes total sense, right?
It had already dried and hardened so I was having a heck of a time scrubbing it with zero success. To make things worse, Tyler and his new Partner In Crime had no remorse for their childish deed, no care to help me attempt to clean it or even explain WHY they did it. I couldn't seem to get it through to either of them that we were for sure not getting our deposit back or the fact that we had to live in a house with colorful handprints all over the floor! Needless to say, I was furious.
Now I'm not sure if it's because I didn't wake up to an alarm, that will usually snap you out of dream instantly, but when I did wake up that morning, I brought the anger with me. I laid there watching the time, just stewing over how awful Tyler had acted and trying to decide what to say to him about it.
About the time I needed to get out of bed it hit me that none of these irate feelings were justified and I had literally made everything up. I turned to Tyler, laughing, and told him that up until my epiphany just moments ago, I was so pissed at him. Groggy and understandably confused, he just stared at me until I explained everything and he proceeded to tell me I was crazy, which I would normally argue, but if the shoe fits...
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