I was sleeping very fitfully this morning because Megan was repeatedly waking me up. This always causes very strange, very short dreams:
- I was freezing to death in Antarctica with Fry, the Professor, and Zoidberg from Futurama. Except I was Fry, and Zoidberg was a plastic penguin.
- I bought the Superdome. It was a fixer-upper with police tape cordoning off crumbling sections of concrete.
- A fairly disturbing sex dream whose details you don’t want to know. Frankly, I’d prefer I didn’t know them either.
- Four or five others that have already self-destructed.
I do my best not to give too many details about my dreams, because I don’t want other people to give me details on theirs. Don’t give me long, drawn out descriptions of your dreams unless they a.) predict the future, b.) have a good narrative, or c.) are so completely batshit insane that they’ll amuse me. I make no secret of the fact that I have an incredibly short attention span.
We’ve all had people describe far more of their dreams to us than we really care to hear…
“Well, I was in my high school. I was talking with my math teacher, except he was also my dad. Then, I don’t know why, but I was suddenly in a field out in the middle of nowhere, and big birds were circling above me. Then I ate a doughnut, and the world imploded.”
Sound familiar?
Describing dreams in any more than two sentences is a waste of time. No one expects that a hallucination is going to make sense–so why would anyone expect that a dream should be any more lucid?
June 23, 2007 at 7:23 pm
I concur about the dream description thing. My brother was terrible about telling me every detail of his dreams. I was so bored.
In other news, I bought a new bike and Mike keeps making noise about biking all the way from Milwaukee to Madison. If we do it I’ll give you a call and maybe you can ride with us a ways.
June 24, 2007 at 4:23 pm
Well, the other night i had this dream, and i was back at highschool, naked, and talking to my math teacher, who was actually bill cosby and he told me i’d end up wasting my life and then he ate a jello pudding snack and then the world imploded.
And did you know we are trying to sell our condo?
No one wants to buy it.
: (
June 26, 2007 at 5:19 pm
Bummer. I suppose killing your psychotic white trash neighbors is out?