Okay, so the first thing that's weird about this dream is that I was staying at the Grand Floridian. This is stange enough, because there's no way in hell I could afford that, but it gets weirder: I was there with my parents. My parents would NEVER drop that kind of money on a hotel regardless of their financial situation, and also, their interest in WDW is cursory at best (although I'm working on it with my mom).
Anway, there was a lot of bizarre dream stuff where I think I may have been sick, but also I was sleeping, but ALSO I was on the treadmill in the hotel gym and my mom was trying to force-feed me gross apple juice because apparently this would help me feel better and also keep me from keeping other people awake, or something? I don't know. The usual dream logic.
But this is when the dream got fun. I was trying to make my way back to the room - but I couldn't remember my room number. I was walking through the GF's cavernous main lobby when I came upon a CM dressed as they do there, with the short pants and newsboy cap. I was walking behind two businessmen in suits when I decided to start singing "Let's Go Fly A Kite" from Mary Poppins, including the second verse because I'm a badass like that. This apparently impressed the CM, who began singing with me. We harmonized a beautiful, drawn out final note (OH! LET'S! GOOOOO! FLY A KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!*) and the businessmen applauded, and then everyone around us started clapping.
That's the bulk of my dream, but I will note that after that I somehow transported to the old style of resort arcade, when they used to have a prize counter, and it was HOPPING which was odd because in my dream it was like 1am. Also I passed a 3D Beauty and the Beast movie with a marquee and everything and I was like, that's weird, I didn't know there were attractions inside resorts, but I kept walking because I was still trying to find my room. I woke up before I ever found it. I hope my dream parents weren't worried.
And that may be the closest I ever get to staying in the Grand Floridian.
* No, sir. I don't mean you personally.
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