Crazy Crap Item #203: The part where I prove to be a girl of small ambitions

Lately, I've noticed a strange trend in my dreams. No, not the unearthly appearance of spirit visitors that lately garnered such attention.

Rather, I've discovered an uncanny ability to realize I'm dreaming while in the midst of my dreams, and to react to the situations around me armed with this knowledge. I chalk it up to the fact that I've taken to the habit of arising at a normal hour, then rolling back over for an extra hour or so of sleep. These strangely reasonable dreams tend to occur just before I arise for good.

Here's an example: I recently had a dream that I was on a business trip (clearly a sign I'm dreaming), and was taking a work-out in the hotel gym. As I step on to the exercise equipment, I notice I am wearing my very costly silver watch. So I remove it and fling it to the ground. I hop on to exercise, and almost immediately realize that this is not a smart move. One does not simply fling one's fancy watch onto a gym floor, where it could be broken or purloined!

I hop off said equipment, and begin to search for my watch. I quickly discover that nearly everybody in this gym has done the same thing, so there are watches everywhere! How, oh, how shall I ever find my watch!! How could I be so stupid as to do this?

At which point, another part of my brain chimes in and says, "You wouldn't. Nobody would. This is clearly a dream. You can look all you want for that watch, but when you wake up, you can check your jewelry box, and it'll be there." I realize that this is probably true. I regret I can't somehow go check right now, but I assure myself this makes perfectly good sense. I abandon my search and go on my merry, dreamy way.

(For anyone who's interested, my dream-self was correct. The watch was in my jewelry box.)

So this morning, a similar thing occurs. I dream that I'm on my way to some sort of rehearsal, and realize that I need to grab a meal first. I stop in at a very seedy fastfood joint. Zany hijinx ensue--too disjoined to try to recount--but I end up ordering a chicken sandwich, a donut, and a diet Coke.

As I wait for my order to come up, it suddenly strikes me that I have no idea if I have any money to pay for this meal. I pull out my purse, which--as it turns out--is a triangular, "Hello Kitty"-inspired affair, made of transparent plastic and trimmed in pink. Since it is transparent, I quickly see that my big black wallet is not inside. It is totally empty.

But before I can even worry, that same, oddly rational part of my brain says, "This is a dream. You make it go any way you want. Just put your hand in the purse and pull out a $10 bill. That should cover it."

I do, I pay for my meal, and go on my merry, dreamy way.

It's not till later this morning, as I'm recounting this dream to Eamon that I realize I could’ve told myself to reach into my purse and pull out …. A $100 bill. A credit card. The Hope diamond. A gold-plated tiara.

But, no, I pull out a $10. Because that should just about cover it.

Dream big, little lady. Dream big.