Last night, I dreamt that I was in the cast of The Office. I don’t think that I was any of the characters in particular, but everyone was there, and there were shenanigans going on, and we were in Scranton, so there was no mistaking that I was, in fact, in The Office.
I have two explanations for this strange nocturnal situation.
The first is that I decided to eat two full avocadoes at 11:30 last night. Those of you that know me also probably know that I have some odd eating habits. I have been known to fry up and eat an entire package of bacon on my own (usually when my wife leaves me alone for dinner). Up to now, my naturally high metabolism has kept me from the worst effects of my binge eating, but as 30 looms ever closer, I think I might have to start making more appropriate food choices.
Also, much as I used to laugh this theory off, I’m pretty sure that my already twitchy subconscious is strongly affected by what I eat. I wish that it were a direct relation: eating eggs creates dreams where I’m falling; eating carrots creates Viking dreams; chocolate sent me into space; etc. I would be master of the world of REM.
(Can you imagine how cool the eggs + carrots + chocolate dream would be? I’d be falling through space with Vikings!)
The second thing that probably caused the strange Office dream was the fact that my wife and I watched 3 hours of The Office yesterday. We both suffer from a rare disease known as Serial Sitcom Gorging Disorder (SSGD). It causes us to latch on to a new television show every six months or so, watch as many syndicated episodes as we can on every day that it’s on, get frustrated with the lack of continuity that comes from watching the same show on three different channels, and then go out and buy the DVDs.
The Office’s SSGD outbreak has proven to be an insidious one. We kept seeing episodes with Jim and Pam looking longingly at each other, and then they were suddenly together, and Pam was in art school, and Angela was engaged to the guy from The Hangover.
“What the hell?” we cried out together (my wife and I often yell things in unison). “When did all of this happen? When did Pam and Jim get together? Who said what to whom? And when?”
My theory is that last night the SSGD and the two avocadoes swirled themselves together into a kind of mockumentary guacamole in my brain, leaving me disoriented and afraid that I will be made fun of by Jim. I woke up at 5:30, my heart pounding as the echoes of ringing phones and whirring copy machines rang in my ears.