A dream, a failed joke, and estimated statistics

Last night I had a dream that I thought was odd in several ways.
I dreamt I was at Mom and Dad's house and got a phone call from Jason Hubert. He's a guy I went to high school with, and who was in medical school with Lena. We were friendly, but I would in no way characterize us as friends. The sum total of time I spent talking with him in real life is probably half an hour, and I haven't seen him in a decade or so.
An odder part of the dream was that he was calling to discuss the Ryder Cup, in which I was apparently going to be playing the next week. He was discussing strategy with me and I was at a bit of a loss as to what we were talking about, until I suddenly realized that I was on the Ryder Cup team and had forgotten (so I guess it was like those dreams where you walk in to a class and discover there's a test that day and you didn't know it.)
What really has me puzzled is my thought process after I hung up the phone (in the dream). I can't figure out if I woke up a little and thought this out, or if it was all while I was still asleep.
Here is the sequence of thoughts as they occurred to me- as I said, I think I may have been awake for part of this, but I'm not sure:
1) Oh no! The Ryder Cup is next week and I haven't arranged transportation! I need to get a plane ticket!
2) And I need a place to stay! I wonder if all the hotels are already booked.
3) Darn. I haven't asked off from work yet. I'll never get the whole week asking this late. Maybe I can ask off Thursday and Friday, and if I leave work early Wednesday I can get there in time to play a practice round.
4) But wait, I haven't played golf in months! I need to practice a lot!
5) I think I'll just take the whole week off. I'm playing in the Ryder Cup! I don't need that other job.. I'll just take a leave of absence or something.
6) Gosh, I stink at golf, really. Why am I on the Ryder Cup team?

And then I finally realized that it was a dream and that I was not, actually, going to play in the Ryder Cup.

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a failed joke...
My work friend Debbie had some Easter marshmallow rabbits (like peeps, but bunnies) that she'd been eating. She had some left and didn't want them to go stale (some philistines don't appreciate a nicely aged peep).

I have a large tupperware container that's about 1/4 filled with chex mix, so I agreed to put the rabbits in on top, and joked "but those rabbits better not eat all my chex mix." She laughed at that.
Then I said..."and when I come in tomorrow it better not be raisin chex mix."
She thought that was gross. I thought it was pretty good bathroom humor.

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Estimated statistics:
I need to replace my belt. I have several, but only had one brown belt that I liked and wore often, and it has finally bit the dust.
I also need a new pair of brown shoes, as the pair I wear most days has about had it also.

I estimate that I have worn the belt on 2400 different days. I think that's quite a lot. What's depressing about it is that it was still in pretty good shape, but I broke the buckle carelessly. It probably had at least two more years left but I killed it.
I have worn the shoes on approximately 1400 days. I think that's a lot, too.