WTF, subconscious?

It seems that somehow I have come into the possession of a human head. Dried/preserved, with only minimal bones remaining, and fragile as hell. It has reddish hair, thought it's so old that determining whether the color is natural or some sort of dye is impossible. There are markings on the underside of the skull-ish thing, and while I'm wandering around with this creepy thing, trying to decide why I have it and what the symbols might mean, someone tries to take it.

So I stash it in my room, which is my parent's old room at the house I grew up in.

Moving on, and still encountering a lot of people I know in real life, all of whom have either no advice or assistance to give re: THE HEAD, I realize that there is a second, smaller, shrunken head that I need to get to decipher the first one, which suddenly seems to portend an apocalyptic event of some kind. Also, my subconscious has decided that this comes from some Mesopotamian culture, but my vocabulary only offers "Mayan" despite the inaccuracy of that label.

So now I'm searching along a riverbank for the second head, and when I do come across it, I am surprised that the "shrunken" head is actually a pretty decent size. Like a honeydew melon or biggish cantaloupe. And then the weird authority thing shows up again and demands the head. I am forced to hand it over, but not before I scratch/force my hand into the brain pan from underneath (AARGH! GROSS! CRUMBLY DEAD HEAD GERMS!) and wrap my fist around something smaller and bumpy (AARGH! IT'S SHAPED LIKE A CALCIFIED BRAIN! WHY?!) and remove it to my pocket before handing over the crumbling remains of the head. It/he looks at the hole, and I shrug and go my way.

Back at mi childhood casa, my brain decides that I shouldn't have to go through the obvious next step of deciphering the markings using the key on the brain, so we skip all that and the current apocalypse is averted. For this year. And the final message was "The red-headed person will be killed." Creepy, but still, averted so no danger here. So now my brain tells me in retrospect that a rapper was traveling in South America/Africa (hey, it starts with "A" and it's big and I've been awake for a while now so it's not as sharp as it could've been.) and he sent me the head.

And then my cell phone rings and the i.d. says "Anubis" and I think "oh. Maybe this is the rapper?" but it is an airline calling to confirm my trip next year to the country of head origin, presumably prompted by the powers behind the crumbly skull messages.

I actually, in my dream, dithered about going, but decided that since I'm dreaming, I probably won't really have to go on that trip.

So if we all die next year, my bad.

I have all the restraint of a....thing with no restraint.

I am trying, world. Seriously. I am attempting to not crow about the silly inter-office drama that is currently overtaking my own life, but it is so gosh darned amusing!

And the characters! They're right out of a bizarre reality show with archetypes from the 1960's nostalga crap AND RuPaul's Drag Race. It's fantastic!

Also, I'm not a bad storyteller, so I naturally want to run with the one story I get that requires no embellishment to get the dropped jaws and shocked gasps my inner extrovert so desperately craves.

Must. Not. Poke. The. Crazy.