This is why I'm drinking brandy at 5 in the morning...

I dreamt that my building was on fire. Outside of my window, I could see the glow of the yellow-red flames licking the glass. I tried the door, but somehow the heat had deformed it, so that it stuck itself to the frame. I leaned into it, but the door was getting hotter, and I couldn't touch it without risking second-degree burns. Uh-oh. Then I remember the fire escape, which is really the first thing you ought to be thinking about in case of fire. And hooray, I was in the relative safety of the outside world.

And you would've thought I'd woken up at this point? Fortunately not.

Glancing around, I saw a couple of "friends", Lili and Cheche, sisters, barely in their twenties, and they were smiling at me. Apparently, I lost my shirt somehow, and the fire had made me sweat like a pig. I was ashamed, my man-boobs and pot belly would likely turn them off. But they were still smiling at me, and "checking me out". I looked down at myself and... whaddyaknow, rock hard pecs and abs were on me, glistening in my sweat and bronzed by the heat of the fire! (At this point I had a sneaky suspicion that this was indeed a dream, but who's complaining!?)

So I engaged in some chit-chat, making sure I'd tense my abs and biceps every once in a while, impressing them. (actually, I was more impressed with myself that they were) After about 5 minutes of talking about what a coincidence all this was, I prevailed upon them, yes both of them, to check out my crib, which by now was magically restored to its old, lackluster condition prior to the fire.

Now, lounging around at my pad, we were enjoying some white wine while munching on grapes (funny, I've never had grapes in the pad before), laughing at the most mundane things, like how I was fat just yesterday, and how they were wearing pajamas all of a sudden. We were in the middle of a discussion about Leo Tolstoi's 'War and Peace', my contribution to which was all bullshit as I haven't read the damn book yet, when Lili cracked the slightest of yawns. Go time.

I asked them if they would like to sleep over, seeing as how they were already in their jammies and all. They looked at each other, smiled and nodded their approval. (Don't you dare wake up, don't you dare!!!) I led them to my bedroom, which was somehow decked in black and red leather, and announced that I was sleeping on the couch. Of course they objected, and said (in unison) that I was welcome to join them... leaving a small space sandwiched between them for me. (I thank you Lord, for these thy gifts...)

Of course at this point... I woke up, in the real world, all alone in bed, all man-boobs and pot belly. I forced my eyes shut, but only darkness greeted me. This sucks bigtime.