Presidents Day Dream

Why did I have to work yesterday? It was a holiday, wasn't it? Children were off from school, the banksters had locked their doors along with their allies, the government offices of the land, and people everywhere were frolicking about in great joy over not having to deal with the evil parasites (no, I don't mean to include the children in that designation).

I dreamed I asked the higher ups (well, the assistant higher up, the only one who was there and not taking the day off as a paid holiday) if it made sense to stay open on a day when most everyone was having Presidents Day barbecues and picnics, exchanging Presidents Day presents, and eating hollow chocolate Washingtons and Lincolns.

And then I had another dream, a dream of a President who actually promised hope and change, and guess what? He was chocolate, just like those little Georges and Abes that the kids find in their baskets on Presidents Day morning. We believed he would end two wars and bring all the troops home and fulfill the dreams of the anti-war movement. But then the chocolate President was really in the White House, and as I watched in horror his outer chocolate coating began to crack, which might not have proved fatal to our hopes, if, that is, we hadn't discovered that beneath that crack he was hollow inside.

And then the true horror of the dream revealed itself, as the chocolate of the new President's head also began to crack and fall away. Would we have a headless President? But no, it was far more terrible than that. Underneath the smiling chocolate face was another one, a grinning, stupid looking face made of white chocolate, and as the last of the real chocolate dropped to the ground, I stared in horror and disbelief. It was George W. Bush!

I woke up screaming.

No more hollow chocolate bunnies for me before bedtime.