So, I don’t know if anyone else has the weirdest dreams in the world—not only do I have super weird and detailed dreams, but they always have a narrative structure, and I can remember all of them, and they are very psychedelic, like I’m on drugs, which I am usually not.  The only catch is that I’m like, an even more neurotic version of myself in the dreams, so I’m the ultimate buzzkill, going “THAT’S ILLEGAL” or “PEOPLE WILL BE WORRIED ABOUT THIS,” or “YOU SHOULD STOP DOING THAT.”  For instance, over the weekend I had a particularly strange one that involved an alligator that had been cut in half, and how I was encouraging a total stranger to pick up this alligator, and then use it to get a free Subway sandwich.   See--surreal, then totally practical, like I’m on Salvador Dali’s shoulder going “hey, you know—that clock isn’t going to be able to tell you the right time if it’s dripping like that, man.  Paint it again!”

This all makes perfect sense, right?  Half an alligator will always get you free stuff at Subway.  I also like how I’m still frugal in the dream, even though it’s a dream, and I could be the Emperor of Dreamville and be a Dream Money millionaire.  I swear, sometimes in the middle of the dream, my mind goes all meta and I’m like “you know—you could be flying right now, and instead you’re in Subway trying to use an alligator to get a free turkey sub. That is stupid”    And right there, I laugh at myself.  Then again, Stephan told me recently that he had a dream he switched his bank account to Chase, and in the dream he was like “oh my God—this is so convenient!  There are so many more ATMS in the Chase network!” So maybe I’m not alone in this one.

Here is a sampling:  when I was in grad school, I had this recurring dream where I was reading books, and in the dream I was like “oh my God, this is so great—I am totally going to finish the reading assignment before seminar!”   I was always disappointed when I woke up from that one. Years ago I had one that I was in the middle of the ocean, and Oprah Winfrey was there, and she was making Polynesian boys jump off a pier but there was no way to swim back, and I was like “Hey Oprah, just because you’re Oprah doesn’t mean you can just send those Polynesian boys off the end of that pier with no way to get back.  That’s not right.” 

Because Oprah listens to me in my dreams, ok?  That is how practical I am.    Also, I am totally sure that a psychologist is going to end up reading this post one day and will leave a comment like “dreams like this mean you are crazy.”   Speaking of psychologists, let’s see what Shannon has to say to this post.

Actually, I brought this up because I am actually very interested to see what other people dream about.  What are dreams for, anyway?  Does everyone remember their dreams?   Please, use the comments to enlighten me, or to tell me that half-alligator dreams mean I’m mental.  Either will do.