I don't cry myself to sleep, but I do laugh myself awake.

I have a reoccuring nightmare that just so happened to reoccur last night.  It's dark out and I'm driving down O Street in Lincoln (why?)  My eyes suddenly become so heavy that I can't open them.  My feet are heavy.  And my arms.  My everything.  I suddenly weigh a ton except I'm still the same size; just compacted.  I can't take my foot off of the gas pedal because it's too heavy and I know I'm going to wreck soon; can't believe I haven't already.  It takes all the strength I have to get my right hand off of the steering wheel and in last night's dream, something new happens.  My hand swipes the radio tuner as it crashes to the console.  The radio turns on and there is a text-to-landline message that my brother sent me years ago (in real life, not dream life).  I'm still terrified and blinded and now bracing my heavy self as much as I possibly can for the light pole or semi truck that I must be about to crash into.  And loud as can be, clear as a bell, there's the operator's voice: "You are a dorky ruh-tard."  And even though I know I'm about to be in an incredible amount of pain and maybe even leave this world for good, I can't help but laugh.  Then the sound of my own real-life laughter wakes me up.  That was strange.  I usually wake up right as I hear screeching brakes and loud, scary noises. 

I can't help but think that no matter what I do now, those are really the words I will hear when I'm dying.  "You are a dorky ruh-tard."  Great.  And just in case you've never received a text-to-landline message, send yourself one.  Anything you send, the operator sounds out in an extremely hilarious way.