My Own Planet

Last night, I dreamt that I had a job answering phones for Hillary Clinton. The job itself wasn't that great, aside from the obvious perk of getting to answer the phone, "Hillary Clinton's office." I think I had some of my friends and family call me at work just so they could hear me answer the phone that way. Anyway, at one point during the day, Hillary decided she was going to take all of her assistants (me and a couple of other random girls) to get a soda. She knew of some way that we could get soda out of the vending machine without having to pay for it, but we would have to go outside. So we all piled onto this cart (similar to the ones you see driving around in airports) and set off in search of free soda. We stopped midway down a hill, because Hillary wanted to get out and see if this was where she could in fact get the free soda. I guess I was supposed to be watching the cart so it didn't roll away, but either I didn't know that or I forgot to do it, and the cart went careening down the hill and crashed into Hillary, who let out a yelp and fell to the ground. Horrified, I ran down the hill and began apologizing profusely and asking if she was OK. She said she was fine, but in that really bitchface way that means, "I'll be OK, but I am sooooo pissed at you right now."

The moral of this story? Do not let any runaway carts steamroll Hillary Clinton. She really does not like it.