Dreaming's a Bitch

I had this strange dream last night. In it, I kept getting accosted by my past sexual conquests. These chicks would follow me around and throw themselves at me in an effort to get it on. Now, before you get any silly ideas . . . it's not like it was a giant crowd of women that was looking for me. I can still count the amount of women I've made it (I know, classy) with using both my hands . . . and a calculator. Ha! See what I did there. Feel free to slap your knee at any time now. Go on. I'll pause the story until you get it out of your system.

So, back to the dream. I keep trying to fend off these women, who won't take no for an answer. I tell them that I love my wife, that there's no way that I'm going to cheat on them, and that they're just wasting their time. But they're relentless. They keep coming after me. Pleading their case for sex with me. Suddenly, I find myself cornered by this number of women I would need a calculator to tabulate and they're ready to pounce. . . and I wake up.

I immediately look to my left, where my wife is sleeping, and I sigh with relief. She's laying there, sleeping like an angel, and I couldn't be happier to be next to her. Of course, she then proceeds to turn towards me and I get a left hook to the chin. But I don't mind. I fall asleep next to her, the slight tingling of the punch to my face reassuring me that she's there, and that she's the only one I want to be with.