Dreams of a Non-Crack Smoker

I have strange dreams. Sometimes they're like movies, complete with three-act structure and integrated themes. Sometimes they're so real, they bore me to tears, like when I had a dream that I was at work putting together an Excel file, and that was the entire dream. Often, they feature Mexican migrant workers or Andy Garcia (unrelated to each other).

(ps--did you know Mickey Rourke was Andy's little league coach when Andy was a kid in Miami? For reals, dude. Some people will leave their kids with ANYONE)

Last night I dreamed:

I wanted to make my hair super silky like in those Pantene commercials where their hair just spills down, like a river. I went to Walgreen's and bought some conditioning oil but when I got home, I was reading the directions and it said, "Not to be used if your hair is colored."

And I got so CRAZY offended because my hair is black and I'm like, What--just cuz my hair is BLACK, it ain't good enough for your product?!?

But then I realized that the packaging was referring to highlights.

If not smoking crack gives me dreams like that, then maybe it's time that I started.