So, I thought I'd share a dream with you.
I dreampt that my dad donated a car for some important event. It was one of those big boxy 1970's sedan-types. It wasn't in great shape, but it would do. "The oil is a quart low," he told me.
I took the car to a hardware store. Suddenly, Cowboy (from work) was in the car with me. "I'll just go get the stuff we'll need," I told him. Cowboy agreed to wait in the car.
I'm a man. These cost $40.
In the hardware store, I was lost. Mike Gundy was there, and helped me find 5 long pieces of metalic ribbon. I have no idea why, but it made perfect sense at the time. I would *need* this.
Anyway, back at the car, Cowboy and I raised the hood. The ribbon already didn't make any sense. "I think I need some gloves," I said. "This could get messy." Once again, Cowboy agreed to wait in the car.
Perfect for oil changes
I found a whole aisle of gloves. Half of them were flimsy 2 dollar garbage, and the other half were at least 50 bucks each. I found one pair that was around 10 bucks. They were too small, shiney, and the fingers were smudged together like mittens. But, they were at my price point, so I bought them.
Anyway, the line was crazy long. Mike Gundy was working the register. By the time I got outside, night had fallen. Cowboy was waiting in the car. He looked grumpy.
We raised the hood again. I had my too-small gloves and my ribbon. Suddenly, a thought hit me. "It's just low on oil, right?" Cowboy nodded. "One quart low."
Hundreds of uses?
"Maybe we should... just... buy some oil?" It sounded just crazy enough to work. I put the gloves and ribbon in my pocket. They may be useless, but I bought them so I'm keeping them, dangit.
Then I woke up.
I don't understand much about Dream Analysis, but I *think* this means today's winning lottery numbers are 40, 13, Mike Gundy, and pi.
I want a cut of whatever you win.