I am not an armoire!

I ate some chilli before going to bed, so it's time for another "Dodson's Dream"©

I guess I'm easily influenceable. Last night I read a (fictional?) story about a guy who had a car accident in which his pregnant girlfriend died. He blacked out for a while and finally ended up in an insane asylum because he would hear her voice and see their dead baby stalking him.

A real chick-flick story.

Anyhoo:
I was back in University and, like always, it was a hotel party night. I remember I was getting tired, so I decided to lay down for a while, fully planning to return to the party after resting my eyes. Next thing I know it's next morning and I'm feeling really disoriented. I don't know what it is, but I know I forgot something and it's important. Probably something I did during the night. I think I'm in my hotel room, but I can't focus on who, if anyone, is there.

It turns out I'm not in the hotel anymore: I'm in an asylum and everyone thinks I'm crazy. Probably something to do with what happened last night. Wish I could remember what. Some of the people from University come to visit me and they're all being real nice and condescending to the nut-job (i.e. Me). One of the people visiting me was Alain (Chad met him once) some guy in my classes.

Then it was group therapy time at the asylum. Since Alain was visiting at the time, he came to the session with me. The "group sessions" turned out to be the entire asylum in a huge cafeteria. We were all sitting at those one-piece cafeteria tables-with-chairs, and I had Alain on one side and the Bender robot from Futurama on the other. The exercize we were doing was to have everyone write a sentence on a piece of paper and place it in a box. Then the facilitator would pick a paper at random and write the sentence on the black-board. Patients would then take turns changing parts of the sentence.

Alain was trying to get me to participate, because he thought this would help me get better. I thought this was really boring and wasn't paying attention until my sentence, which I had painstakingly written to be grammatically perfect, got picked: "L'armoire est rarement utilisée comme un commode". One of the psychiatrists was going around asking if we wanted to go up to the board and write changes to the sentence. He asked me and I grinned, thinking "You fool, it's my sentence. It's pefect! I'll show you!" But then Bender piped up: "Don't listen to him, he's yankin' ya. It's his sentence. I'll go!" So he went to the black-board and changed the sentence to "Je suis rarement utilisée comme un commode". Him being a robot, everyone seemed to think this was extremely funny, so they all laughed and cheered and applauded him.

Then I woke up.