Analyze THIS

I had every intention of getting up at the buttcrack of dawn and going to the gym this morning. Of course, I never tell Neal of my intentions because most of the time that's all they are. But I thought long and hard about it last night and decided "yes, yes I would!" With Rocky music playing in the background, I turned off my reading light and snuggled in. When both of my alarms began blaring at 6:30 this morning, I had no idea where I was or who I was or why Michael Phelps was so angry with me. So, the reason I did not make it to the gym this morning...
Exhibit A: I dreamed I owned a horse head for a pet. Just the head, no body, no tail...just the actual head that fit in the palm of my hand. The horse head had been at the vet's office because apparently it was not receiving enough oxygen. I went to visit him (I'm assuming it was a him, although it was a white horse head so maybe it was a her) and wanted to take him for a little field trip to the zoo. The veterinarian was hesitant but agreed because after all...it was my horse head. So, off we went. I had a horrible time keeping up with him and not dropping him and when I brought him back, he had a gash across his cheek...but was still breathing! And then the one and only thing that could pull me out of a dream like that...Michael Phelps.
Exhibit B: I was working at a department store (which is not that far-fetched. I paid for many a cute skort with the money I earned working at Lazarus) and Mr. Phelps was my customer. We were very busy with 4 or 5 employees lined up behind a counter as if we were department store clerks working within a bank. Each person's line stretched all the way back to the door. Everyone had come in to pay their credit card balances on their store cards. Michael gave me another credit card to pay his balance. The balance was like $127.07. I slid the card and then he said "oh wait, I have 7 cents". So I had to void the transacation and ring it again with his 7 cents. He kept doing that until he had paid the entire bill pennies. It, obviously, took me forever to complete the transaction so he started talking smack about my cashier skills...all the while swinging a gold medal around his finger. By the time I woke up, he had taken all of his pennies back and threw the credit card at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I didn't make it to the gym this morning. There is a valid and acceptable reason why I'm strung out on Starbucks most of the time...my nights are very busy.