So Sunday morning I’m up making breakfast.Â I do this sometimes, though not as often as Shawna would like.Â Shawna walks in, and we banter our way through the morning, exchanging small talk and such.Â You know, friendly chit chat.Â It isn’t supposed to turn ugly, and it isn’t supposed to highlight how predictable I am or how Shawna knows me better than I know myself.
But it did.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present a transcript of a rather embarrassing portion of our Sunday morning conversation…
Me: I had a really weird dream last night.
Shawna: Was it the one where I bring home Megan Mullally and Kelly Clarkson and you watch the three of us make out?
Me: I said it was weird, not so awesome it hurts.
Shawna: Okay, what was it?
Me: All right, so I was back in Indiana, and I accidentally killed my neighbors–
Shawna: You don’t like your old neighbors?
Me: Wasn’t really them.Â Just some faceless couple.Â Dream people or whatever.
Me: So I had to go into hiding.
Shawna: Into hiding.
Me: Well, I ended up going into a grocery store because I needed food, and I’m checking out the magazine rack.Â That’s when I notice they’ve put a bunch of magazines out with the headline NATE SOUTHARD: THE NEXT BIG THING IN HORROR in order to flush me out.
Shawna: So how many did you buy?
Shawna: How many did you buy?
Me: They were using them to find me.Â I couldn’t buy them.
And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a glimpse into the mind of predictable ol’ me.