I swear, my dreams are just television at this point.  This time, I’m a…nurse, maybe?  I know I’m working in a hospital.  I go into check on one patient and find that it’s none other then television’s late Sherman Hemsley.

You may know him from that one episode of Fresh Prince...or from that OTHER episode of Fresh Prince.
You may know him from that one episode of Fresh Prince…or from that OTHER episode of Fresh Prince.

Apparently, I get pretty chatty with Mr. Hemsley.  I manage to hold back an “I loved you in ”Amen!'” the whole time, luckily.  Eventually I find out he’s dying here in the hospital.  He points at a giant pack of Charmin toilet paper and tells me to take it with me.  Apparently, he hates whatever TP the hospital uses, so he brings his own.  I tell him that I can’t take anything out of a patient’s room (also that I don’t want to explain why the hell I’m carrying around a Sam’s Club sized pack of Charmin).  He persists, and also insists on helping me take it to my car.  Even though he’s dying, I suppose he’s in good enough health to carry stuff around.  Also, no one bothers to stop us as a patient is just leaving their room and the hospital.  About this time, I begin to wake up, so I can only assume I thanked Mr. Hemsley for his generosity and went on my day.

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