Courtrooms And Carlin And Blogs, Oh My!

Last Updated on: 19th September 2013, 09:49 am

Man, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to post a wacked out dream that wasn’t dog-related. But it’s finally happening. I guess this one is still kind of dog-related, but not quite as dog-filled.

Last night, I dreamed that the urgent care clinic in San Rafael, the ones that gave me that ugly immobilizer for my bum knee, were suing me. They were suing me because they said I lied about having travel insurance that they wouldn’t take anyway, but this is a dream, so on we go.

I had to sit outside the courtroom forever. They kept having delays. I remember thinking in the dream that they told me there would be delays like this when I learned about what I was supposed to do when accompanying a woman to court for Women in Crisis.

Then they finally brought me in, and the court was in recess, and George Carlin was up in front of the remaining people tellling jokes! Ok then. Every time he went to swear, he decided to censor himself. And his jokes didn’t make any sense. They were about brushing dogs’ teeth. What the?

then it came time for me to speak. I was led up to this desk and told that I had to read entries from the blog where I talked about calling the travel insurance people, because this would somehow prove that I *did* have travel insurance. In front of me was a strange braille display that I’d never seen, and I was supposed to use that. But it was in eight-dot braille mode, and I couldn’t read a thing. I asked them if they knew how to change it, and they said no, so I messed with it for a while and somehow got it into six-dot braille, at which point everybody cheered! Ok! Then it was pretty much over, but not before people were fighting over which day of my guide dog journal was the most depressing.

What the hell? That was weird. I know the whole travel insurance thing isn’t solved yet, and part of me wonders if it would have been better to just pay the damn bill. We’re almost four months later and I’m still receiving notices from San Rafael asking for money. Is that why I dreamed about being sued? But what’s with George Carlin and eight-dot braille and the blog and all that stuff? I don’t know if this dream is seven chickens in a ring weird, but it’s up there.

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