Completely Unrelated To Saturday's Events

I dreamed about the Ex again last night.

Well, really, it wasn't last night because it's like 5:26 a.m. so it just recently occurred and I couldn't fight my way back to sleep, and I promised HSPQ I would run with her this a.m. because now I'm a runner. Ha. At least I'm trying. Now to quit the alcohol consumption (which was Saturday's debacle, and I will outline it for you soon, not sure if I'm going the hilarious route or the pathetic route--still feeling pathetic over it all - in a few more days it might be funny).

So, the Ex:

It was like a Seinfeld Episode TV show and it was called something like, "Whatever Happened To Joe Byrnes." Not his real name, but for those of you who know me, you know the first name is real, and you're probably like, "Are you seriously still hung up on him? He was a jerk, he was an ass, he was a... " The list goes on and on. Why do we women (and men too?) get hung up on those that were the worst in some aspects? (Probably because they were pretty damned good in 'other' ways. Sheee-ott.)

So, this Seinfeld Episode had everyone searching for JB, and no one knew where he was, but they interviewed people who used to know him, and then at the end of the 30-minute sitcom, there was an altar, which kind of looked like something out of Survivor now that I think about it - with fire and some stones surrounding the area. There was a document on top of the altar, like a large sized excel document spreadsheet, and it listed the names of all the girls he either loved or dated, not really sure, because remember, it's an "effing" dream. But the middle half had been torn away from the list. My name, and the actual address I lived at when we were 'doing-that-not-dating-thing-but-together-anyway' was on the list.

My name was the last name on the list before it said:

Reality...
Reality...
Reality...
On which I interpreted that after he and I were through 'doing-that-not-dating-thing-but-together-anyway' he finally found what he was looking for (U2 song inserted here). True love out there somewhere who would accept all the BS about him.

Or, maybe I changed him. Remember, it's a dream. I can interpret it many ways.

And there were other girls there on the list but I had won because I was the last name listed, except for the fact that everyone there knew he had gotten married, although no one knew where he was.

What does this mean? And why am I so sure the next novel I write is completely about JB, with some fictional stuff inserted to keep it fake? Hmmm...