only in dreams

so i had this dream last night. the whole thing played out like a TV episode. i worked at a job not unlike my current one, only i worked with Paul Rudd. i've held Paul Rudd in the 'awesome' category probably since 'Clueless.' there's just something i've always really liked about him.. and he's cute as all get-out to boot.

anyway, in that gossamer haze that is a dream backstory, we'd worked together for some time and kinda sorta had the hots for each other, but never consummated the sexual tension. i'd had this condom (toxic green plastic wrapper) in my pocket for a while and noticed that the expiration date on it was today. so, we figured, what the hell? no sense letting it go to waste...except we couldn't find any place at work to do the nasty. even in closable rooms, doors were flung open without even a knock; it was that kind of environment.

as so often happens, the geography of my workplace changed from a downtown highrise to a single-story U-shaped school type building. we managed to stake out a secluded place in what happened to be the chairman/principal's office. i closed the blinds, he got naked (!; i remained clothed), we held each other, and.. he sang to me. motherfucker sang to me. i was all down for the sex, and he ended up holding me and singing.

my brain fucking hates me.

in the end, though, we were interrupted before we could go any further by the principal and some other headmaster douchebags barging in, not entirely unamused. i think it ended in typical TV show fashion with the headmasters and Mr. Rudd gathered at a round table, with him singing to them, since they liked his singing so much. thankfully everyone was fully dressed.. so i guess my brain doesn't hate me that much.

*spaces out and thinks of dream-paul's warm flesh beneath her hands* yes, it does. fuck.