So. I'm finding myself having violent daydreams. I sit in front of a huge glass window, the old school bank teller deal. And...I'm constantly thinking about what would happen if someone came in with a semi-automatic rifle, pumping rounds into colleagues and associates. I wonder what I would do, dive under the desk..? Grab for the phone? Run? The glass would shatter, no?

So, then what? The gunman is now in the office. What if it was that creepy dude from Production that creeps everyone but Steve out? I'd be first. I'm not nice to that guy AT ALL. Well, shit man. WTF. He's weird. Not cool video gamer weird, but, like, give me a Snickers a day (ala Dane Cook) weird. Painfully awkward. Sweaty-shine bald head. Lil glasses. #shudder# He would mos def be the guy.

I also have daydreams about hostage situations...like. At the thrift store, I was walking the rows like everyone else, zoning out...And I was pretending what it would be like if for some reason someone rolled in shooting. "Everyone on the groud! You're all gonna die!" or something to that event. I was so wrapped up in my fantasy...I turned my phone to silent. That way, if I had to dive under a pile of old lady bras, I mean, what if someone texted me? Now I have Gwen Stefani's 'Holla Back Girl' deet da deeting. I'd be so screwed. Peeking out of racks of gray-white elastic and what used to be 'unmentionables', he'd shoot me right in the face. Dead. Done deal. But, if my phone was on silent...I could also send messages to my love and to my family, saying how much I always cared about them. And I'd wish we had more time, on and on.

And then, I'd focus on the guy taking everyone prisoner. I'd start talking to him, ya know. Exactly the right stuff to say. We'd have something in common, all of a sudden? Done and done. He realizes that I'm right. We could all go home.

Thus is my violent daydreams. Everyone has them. Yes.

I mean. I was kidding...jokes. None of this is real. Haha...ha...anyone? No. K. Yeah.