Can someone please tell Dr. Phil to cut it out? I have no way of getting in contact with him but he is a reoccurring dream antagonist of mine and I think it’s time he and I aired out our dirty laundry.
No matter the situation, it seems like clockwork I have a dream every month where the TV doctor and his patronizingly bushy mustache enter my dream like some kind of Scary Terry wannabe and makes my life a living Hell. He has fulfilled many different roles, ranging from school guidance counselor that is a chaperone on a field trip to a zoo, to a life guard at a community pool that resembles the backyard of one of my friends from childhood’s house. In every dream, the bald so-called psychologist just jumps out of nowhere to offer his unsolicited opinion about my actions. So what if I happen to be eating my backpack or deciding to fly out of a school bus. What gives this man the right to come into MY dreams and tell me how I should behave?
Now, my hands aren’t clean here. I love telling people what I think about nonsense. But dammit, I thought dreams were off limits. Is nothing sacred anymore? I yearn for a simpler time. A time when Mr. Phil (YEAH THAT’S RIGHT! I CALLED HIM MR.) reserves his opinions on mentally unstable people who love to exploit their own issues for momentary pity fame for the 3 o’clock EST time bracket on CBS during my mom’s after work naps. At least then I know your mustache can’t find me if I don’t turn on the TV.
Let’s be real here: we’ve all been subjected to Dr. Phil’s brutal rampages of condescending guidance for too damn long. WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY! Stay out of my dreams you bald southern maniac. We know dumbass Stacey is acting irresponsibly for hiding her gambling addiction from her husband and that Frank pretending to be a superhero every night is not exactly ideal for a functioning member of society, but I don’t need you to tell me that I do not have the freedom to run around a pool in my own dream. Get off your high horse and go back to being that weird meme where your face is superimposed over a green M&M. I WILL NO LONGER LIVE IN FEAR OF YOU AND THE BROOM THAT IS GROWING OUT OF YOUR UPPER LIP!
P.S. Why, yes, I am in therapy. How’d you know?