Last week, staying the night at the Omni Hotel in Atlanta, I woke up screaming, just hollering like hell after waking up from a dream. In the dream I was taking a shit in that hotel. The door to the bathroom was closed, but someone started to open it. I thought it would be a maid or whoever, but in fact it was me at 3 or 4 years of age. When I realized it was me interrupting me at that particular moment I tried to think of a way to escape the situation. The best I could do was scream so hard and loud that it forced me to wake up. Thereby escaping what there was of the "situation."
I really love hotel beds. Good hotel beds, that is. Like lying in a cloud. Though, come to think of it, I've never associated the expression "on cloud 9" with anything except falling thousands of feet from the sky at a fantastic speed and realizing that a splattery doom is inevitable.