As you know, I pay attention to my dreams and, in fact, work hard to retrieve them--something that's gotten harder, frankly, with aging. DEAR AGING, WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO HARSH?
Anyway, this morning I woke up wondering why I bother to remember, because truthfully most of my dreams are mildly to hugely unpleasant. Like last night I dreamed this.
Random Dream Person who I Don't Know in Real Life: I've been meaning to tell you this for awhile, but you smell bad.
Me: I do?
Random Dream Person: Yes, you do.
Me: (with growing horror) Have I always smelled bad?
Random Dream Person: Bingo.
Really? These are the dreams I'm so desperate to remember? I think I'll get a new hobby.
Showing posts with label grubby dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grubby dreams. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Dreaming redux
So I'm still trying to capture my dreams in the belief that remembering them will somehow help me as a writer EVEN THOUGH I HAVE SUCH STUPID DREAMS. The good news is I dreamed last night that Gwyneth Paltrow e-mailed me because she likes my column! The bad news is I forgot to answer her!
This dream started out well--but turned grubby quickly.
This dream started out well--but turned grubby quickly.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Watch out what you wish for
So way back last winter, I posted about dreams and how I wasn't having them anymore and also how SAD this made me because I think writers should dream vigorously and pay attention while they're doing it. And many of you offered suggestions about how I could up my dream quotient, including Kerry who suggested I break something because pain helps trigger dreams. Apparently that's why I broke MY WRIST. Thank you very much for the suggestion, Kerry!
Anyhoo! I did dream twice last night. Here's what I dreamed:
1) I dreamed I was telling a really long story to a group of people and realized halfway into it that I was being comletely boring.
2) I dreamed that I noticed a boy in a cast whose upper arm was as flabby as mine because his muscles had atrophied, too.
These are the kind of dreams I put into a category called GRUBBY LITTLE DREAMS. Included (for me) in this category are dreams where I try on swimsuits and the sales clerks laugh at me or where I step into sprinkler holes and trip in front of my old junior high school.
Meanwhile, Stephenie Meyer dreams about golden, glistening vampires swirling about in meadows.
Anyhoo! I did dream twice last night. Here's what I dreamed:
1) I dreamed I was telling a really long story to a group of people and realized halfway into it that I was being comletely boring.
2) I dreamed that I noticed a boy in a cast whose upper arm was as flabby as mine because his muscles had atrophied, too.
These are the kind of dreams I put into a category called GRUBBY LITTLE DREAMS. Included (for me) in this category are dreams where I try on swimsuits and the sales clerks laugh at me or where I step into sprinkler holes and trip in front of my old junior high school.
Meanwhile, Stephenie Meyer dreams about golden, glistening vampires swirling about in meadows.
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