Crazy ideas I get when I can't sleep

Long story short, I wound up with awful sunburn that, as it healed, itched like mad. Because I had to be up early the next day for work, I couldn't take my usual half-dose of Tylenol PM (to stop the itching and to put me to sleep), and so I was up for most of the night itching my legs off. And so my mind wandered and I got to thinking about the Celestial Bureaucracy… Now, some back-story…

L’homme loves video games, and I love to watch him play them. He was playing this one game that talks about the Chinese “Celestial Bureaucracy”… basically, it’s the idea of the Chinese pantheon of gods, and how they fit into the order of rank and whatnot. The idea doesn’t translate well into English, and so you get the translation of Celestial Bureaucracy… which makes me think of the heavenly typing pool, or the god who is in charge of the heavenly office supply cabinet that won't let you have that box of small paper clips because he gave you a box of the large ones yesterday, and you can't get him to understand that the large ones are too big sometimes and you just like the small ones better but he's all "you already have a box of paper clips so you don't need another box yet"…

And so I can’t sleep, my legs are itching like mad, and I’m thinking about work and this game and the bureaucracy… and then I get this crazy idea. Heaven is supposed to be this place where, like, you can do anything you want and you can get anything you want. So, if you want a Jell-o filled swimming pool with 1,000 lesbians cavorting, you can get it. Now, I’m an event planner – so when I think of the ability to get anything you want, I also think about the logistics behind it: how could you make this work? What would you need to do to get this together? So, I’m thinking you’ve got the people in the kitchen mixing the Jell-o and making little Jell-o cubes, you’ve got the equivalent of “central casting” where you’ve got agents calling up their hot lesbian clients to get them to the pool… you’ve got to hire catering to prepare poolside snacks and a bartender to mix the drinks… then, you’ve got to have the clean-up staff to not only clean up after the party, but I bet getting Jell-o out of the pool drain is a bitch! And you’ve got to get all that Jell-o out of there, because tomorrow Jim from Cloud 17 wants to run laps with former Olympic swimmers…

And so, what if that’s a form of Hell? I mean, what do you do with people who are just not nice people in life – they don’t deserve to roast over the eternal fiery pits of Hell, but at the same time they don’t deserve the Jell-o filled lesbian pool… so maybe, their eternal punishment is that they have to clean all the lime Jell-o out of the pool drain - like, they have to help plan and execute other people’s eternal fantasies. And they have to spend eternity serving out other people’s fantasies and cleaning up after them, and can never take part in the fun themselves… So, that’s my idea.

Because I really hate my co-worker, who is a raving bee-yotch. And I don’t want to think that she gets to be so bossy and bitchy in life without some sort of divine retribution. But at the same time, she doesn’t deserve to be hanging out with Hitler for eternity (although, that would be some serious punishment for Hitler!). I’d like to think that she’s the lackey that cleans up my sick after I’ve had too many strawberry daiquiris when I was lounging poolside, watching Brad Pitt in tight swim trunks doing crunches all day while Monica Bellucci applied my sun tan lotion as L’homme watched.