Sometimes dreams just suck, okay? I don’t mean the goals or aspirations sort of dream–those, no matter how silly or insignificant they may seem to other people, are always good (or at least I think so). No, I’m talking about the literally brain-drama that happens when you sleep.
Usually, my brain dramas are pretty cool. Very action-thriller-spy-movie esque. They’re entertaining, to say the least.
But lately I’ve been having these… ordinary dreams. Dreams that could easily be reality, but a better reality than the one I’m currently in.
Take last night, for example. I dreamt that I was finally able to quit my job and be a full-time artist-person. I dreamt that I left work for the last time, went home, and then spent the time doing whatever the fuck I wanted because I didn’t have to get up and be at some office in the morning. I made plans to visit some friends from out of state. I painted something. (Time, being pretty much nonlinear and totally messed up in dreams, somehow had gone back to morning.) I went out to a restaurant and met up with friends and celebrated not having to be anywhere important and dress professionally.
And while I know that, sure, if I was able to pull off the whole full-time creative person thing, that I would have obligations. I’d have to make money, for one thing, and that means working on new pieces of art and writing and whatnot. I know that I would have some obligations–like meetings and book signings and maybe even a convention booth or two.
But those aren’t necessarily everyday things. My job would be to create, not dress up and go to an office to answer phone calls. I could be happily at work at 3 in the morning in my pjs and kitty slippers, typing away–and I’d still be working.
So, when I woke up this morning, realizing that it was all in fact a dream, and that I really did have to get up to go to work this morning?
Yeah, yeah that really sucked.