My brain did it to me again. After a long night of dreaming about Nazi Zombie Lizards and hooking up computers to a giant router, my brain throws me this little cookie. Suddenly I’m standing behind the counter of a breakfast café’ that I used to frequent back in the 1980s. The waitresses there were all beautiful, which is why I frequented it, and now in my dream I’m back there. I look to my right and to my left and all the girls are there too – NAKED, I’m also naked and they seem to be really happy about the situation. There’s a lot of giggling and hugging and…
That’s where I woke up.
What? No! Not now! Jeeezis , why now? That’s not fair. See, I think it’s the brains way of making it up to you. I’m going to think about this all day, the girls, the giggling and my brain’s amazing recreation of something that never happened. In fact, I lay in bed for almost four minutes trying to remember if that actually had happened to me because it was so real. But no, it was my brain’s way of waking me up in such a way that I couldn’t go back to sleep. Still, I’m a little pissed off because I got three hours of Nazi Zombie Lizard hunting me through the ruins of Stalingrad and then another two hours of the IT problem from hell. Why not seven hours of happy stuff with the girls? Is that too much to ask for? I guess not.
I’ve gotten pretty good at lucid dreaming. I can fix on an image or a person and then dream about them most of the night. The thing is that my dreams still deal with dream stuff (solving problems, searching for McGuffins or standing around waiting) it’s just that Jennifer Aniston is along for the ride and that makes things better. I don’t know if the real Jennifer Aniston is as helpful as the one in my head but if she is she’s got a Nobel Prize coming to her down the road. However, Ms. Aniston is never naked. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe I’m too much of a gentleman(nerd) to take advantage of her in my head. Anyway, some nights it’s her, other nights it’s Cindy Crawford, Shiri Appleby or Brooke Shields. Even on the nights I don’t bring them along my lucid dreaming comes in handy. Take the Nazi Zombie Lizards, they never caught me because I set boobie traps and would counter attack and snipe at them as I made my way to the river. Some nights I just let my brain take me where it wants to take me. Dreams are important because it’s your subconscious’ way of telling you what’s wrong , clueing you into things that you didn’t know were bothering you.
Still, is it too much to ask for the naked waitresses again?