This is what I get for watching American Idol before bed:

I dreamt last night that I tried out for American Idol and made it to Hollywood. There was a little running around the hotel with my group members, practicing our song and choreography. We sucked, and I knew I wasn't going to make the cut, especially since one of our members was out drinking and wasn't coming to practice. During auditions, I was hanging out behind the judges' table, helping organize things while I was waiting for our turn. Simon Cowell was so impressed with how smoothly things were going with my help, he offered me a job as his assistant. I looked at him and said, "An internship? I'm a 28-year-old CPA, you can't afford my salary!" I must have taken the job anyway, because next thing I know, I'm running around trying to find a Dr. Pepper for Simon. Whatever town the auditions were held in had some kind of weird law against normal cups, because every store I went to had tiny, misshapen fountain drink cups, and no one carried Dr. Pepper in a 20 oz. bottle.