I woke up this morning after having stewed through an extremely long dream. I generally love dreaming, but come on… A dream about my dog pooping all over the house and my arduous quest to clean it up? Surely my brain is capable of much more satisfying and elaborate schemes.
I really hate dreaming about things that are mundane and everyday. I find myself cleaning up dog poop in the house at least once or twice a week because B.B. hates walking through the snow. I can’t say I blame him, sometimes it’s as deep as he is tall.
Anyway, I really hate cleaning up his poop in real life, so why live through it again? Does my brain hate me? Do I feel some need to punish myself?
A couple weeks ago I dreamed all night long that I was writing blog posts. While I thoroughly enjoy doing it when fully conscious, I really need a break from it while tucked away in slumberland. I woke up the next morning and had zero interest in writing anything new that day. So I didn’t.
Sometimes I’ll dream that I’m sitting there watching TV or reading a book. When I was employed, I used to dream out entire work days, sitting at my computer typing, nothing exciting. Sometimes I’ll dream that I’m fixing something or cleaning my house.
Thank goodness most of my dreams are awesome and completely plot driven, like if I had a dream where Tweni was climbing out of my throat. If I didn’t have a lot more of the awesome ones, I’d probably find it much less appealing to crawl into the sack at night, and heaven knows the last thing I need is another excuse to stay up late.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing
PS. Do you find yourself dreaming lame dreams sometimes? What kind of lame dreams would you happily do without?