I had a dream last night. In and of itself, that’s not a big deal. According to people who study such things, we all dream every time we sleep. I almost never remember my dreams, though. It’s rare enough that I sometimes wonder if the scientists are wrong and I don’t actually dream every night. Last night, for the first time in years, I remembered my dream.
I was in a warehouse-style hardware store. I wanted to buy a fire alarm. I found the fire alarm aisle and looked at every one in it (there were dozens). They all looked like the kind of red boxes you see in public buildings, but they were black. The cheapest one was $400. I couldn’t afford a $400 fire alarm, and I got really upset.
That’s the dream. Weird, right? I’m of the firm opinion that dreams are random and don’t mean anything, but I can’t help but wonder what this dream would mean if it did mean something. Maybe I’m feeling vulnerable, or poor. Of course, if pop-culture has taught me anything it’s that dream meanings are never that mundane. I just can’t come up with a more exciting interpretation.
It doesn’t matter, though. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything at all. I do have to admit to being a little disappointed in it. If I’m only going to remember a dream once every five to ten years, I wish it could be a better dream. Maybe one where I’m flying or where I get to be a Jedi. Instead, my dream life is even more boring than my real life. Oh well.
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