I woke up several nights ago singing "Sominex / Suppertime" from Little Shop of Horrors. Of course, one's sense of time is distorted when waking up in the middle of a dream, but it felt like it took me several minutes before I could stop singing, "go to Seymour, talk to Seymour."
Note that: a) the only person I know named Seymour usually goes by "Sy" and b) I do not have any plants to feed.
