I hate dreams like this.

I dreamed I was a shape-shifting Neil Patrick Harris, with an eye patch and big beefy arms. I robbed an ATM. I woke up in the dream, and I still had a paper bag of crisp $100 bills. (What ATM gives out $100 bills?) I spent the rest of the dream worrying about getting rid of the money and wondering if I could somehow launder it without being caught.

Practical dreams are so lame.