stinky dreams

I had my umpteenth stinky dream today. I think I can safely call it a nightmare. I mean, what would you do if you showed up at the testing center to take an English test you just heard about, only to find rows and rows of missionaries lining the entrance to the testing center that you were not allowed to talk to (let alone look at), and then have one of them grab your legs pleading for help because the food was so bad, only to be shooed away by a grumpy group of onry, elderly couple missionaries. And that's not even the beginning: while taking the test you get a really annoying phone call, a French international dance group practices their routine in front of you so it is impossible to focus (and, imagine that, there's missionaries in the group acting as the armies of Helaman). Then you get stuck at a weird version of your dorm with your roommates who suddenly aren't normal. I'm pretty sure they usually don't bury live squirrels. Soon after, a friend from the past comes and rips apart the essay outline you were working on (seriously - when can the bare bones not be satisfactory?! I thought outlines were supposed to be vague!!). And then I woke up.

Wow. That stunk like poop. Do you think having a gnome in one's room influences dreaming quality? If so, Nathan, you've gotta move out.