A lot of them.
In fact, recently, I’ve been overachieving on the dreaming, so much so that I’m a little apprehensive about sensorially processing anything in the daylight for fear that it will show up hours later.
- I order Swiss cheese on a burger…I dream that I wear a dress made out of swiss cheese to a church wedding. (Actual cheese. Lots of holes. Not this cute.)
- I look through a Kirtsy slide show on China…I can speak fluent Chinese, as I do a busking tap dance routine on the Great Wall of China to “Single Ladies.” I am awesome.
- I see two green boats on the lake…I vote for a green boat in the Mayoral election; it wins and then decrees that everyone must see Dolphin Tale or be forced to live in a desert. I am disappointed in my choice.
- I search for a new oven on the Internet…I dream a horrific Hansel and Gretel kitchen slasher film about cooking. Super gross.
- I glance up to see Grey’s Anatomy on the TV…and, oh hell no.
I dreamt more when I was pregnant. However, this explains nothing because I’m not currently pregnant. But then today something told me that running kicks the REM up a notch. I have no idea. All I know is, it’s freaking me out.
Especially because now I have a son. A very active son, who already instigates very active day dreams involving what ifs, oh nos, and which way to the closest emergency rooms? That was hard for me to even type. Because I selectively feel that just thinking something will now somehow make it happen…or make me dream it…like it’s The fracking Secret of dreamland. (That said, there are things I’ve been actively obsessing about for years that still haven’t happened. Things like George Clooney.)
So in the spirit of ‘if you dream it, you can do it,’ I’m now steadfastly going to visualize the following:
I see my son using a napkin instead of his shirt …
I see my son realize that whining is an annoying waste of time…
I hear my son say, “You’re right mom, I don’t need any more Pillow Pets”…
And the list goes on and on.
In fact, I could do this all day. So many things to conquer, Secret Style… And according to a lot of the material out there, once you’ve received the message your dream is sending, you defeat it or something, and it goes away.
So, okay, fine, I get it. I’ve received. It’s decided. I will meditate on Harry eating more vegetables. And I will not wear Swiss cheese out in public. Unless George comes over and he’s into that.