Lately, my dreams have taken a turn for the mundane. I wish I could say last night's dream, which involved going to the store and buying a video game, was an isolated bit of tedium, but alas, I cannot. Just last week, I had a dream where I went with friends to a thrift store. I didn't buy anything...at least that would be SOMETHING. No, we went into a thrift store and browsed. I even remember that, in my dream, my hands had that funny thrift store smell on them afterwards. Far be it for me to dream that all the clothes in the thrift store smelled like peaches or some other pleasantry. And before that, I had a dream where I returned to Mr. J's to buy a bagel, and my ex-boss told me that anytime I was back in the area, I could pick up some shifts. That's it. Any one of these dreams is so dull that it may have actually happened. I miss my childhood when I would dream of ghosts and dragons and winning lots of money and stuff like that. What has my life become that my dreams are now just a continuation of what I do during the day?
I'll tell you what. A robot. A cold, heartless robot.