All of the commercials for Wicked are affecting me! Last night, I had the weirdest, most vivid dream I’ve had in years—I was stuck in The Wizard of Oz. And let me tell you, it wasn’t the whimsical, magical adventure you’d imagine. It was sheer munchkin chaos.
It all started with me waking up in a field of poppies. I didn’t have time to figure out how I got there because the Cowardly Lion was pacing back and forth, muttering about his “crippling stage fright.” The Scarecrow was in a full-blown argument with the Tin Man over who was more “emotionally unavailable,” and Dorothy? She was scrolling through her phone, complaining that her Wi-Fi wasn’t working in Oz… and some unrepeatable descriptor words about AT&T, I swore I overhear too.
I decided to follow the yellow brick road… because, what else do you do in the Land of Oz? It wasn’t paved with brick, though, it was more like a muddy dirt trail — and every few steps, flying monkeys swooped down and stole random things from my pockets. At one point, they grabbed my car keys, and all I could think was, “Great, now I’m never getting home!”
We eventually made it to the Emerald City, but instead of being this grand, sparkly metropolis, it looked like an Indiana BMW waiting room. The Wizard wasn’t a mysterious floating head; he was a tired-looking guy in a wrinkled suit, sipping coffee from a mug that said, World’s Most OK Wizard.
“I don’t actually grant wishes,” he said with a shrug. “But I can write you a motivational quote if that helps?” I’ve sold a few quips to Hallmark Cards over the years, if that impresses you any.
When I demanded to know how to get home, he handed me a pamphlet titled “When Times Are Rough, Finding Your Inner Courage” and said, “Figure that out, and you’ll be just fine.” I was about to lose it when Glinda the Good Witch floated in… on a pink Segway though. I have no idea where her pink bubble action went.
“You’ve had the power to leave all along!” she chirped, spinning in a circle. “We’re not the Hotel California, after all!”
“Then why didn’t you say that before I got pickpocketed by flying monkeys?” I yelled. “Little shits,” I murmured.
But before she could answer, I woke up… Really? And just when we got to the good part!
So, what does it all mean? Maybe I’m overworked, stressed, too anxious. Maybe I need to stop eating snacks before bed. Or maybe, just maybe, The Wizard of Oz is secretly a metaphor for how no one really knows what they’re doing, and we’re all just winging it… trying to sync up with Pink Floyd because someone said the movie and music matched…
Either way, I’m sticking to Netflix before bed from now on… and no spicy food.
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