I have intensely vivid dreams, sometimes. I did last night. I won’t bore you with them.
My mother, she insisted on telling me her dreams in great detail in the mornings. Oh, this was grim. When I tried to cut her off, she’d say, “no, no — here’s where it gets interesting!”
It never did. Other people’s dreams never do.
I have a Theory about dreams. I think your brain rehearses all sorts of arbitrary imagery and rehearses arbitrary emotions simultaneously. So you get random scenarios jammed up with with random (sometimes profound) feelings.
The shovel that makes you feel guilty. The fish that frightens you. We won’t even touch inappropriately lusty dreams. These can feel hugely meaningful, and aren’t. That’s my theory, anyway. Ahem.
Anyway, at the dramatic conclusion of my final dream, I turned to my boss (an actual boss from many years ago) and shouted, “you have the aesthetic sensibilities of a sea monkey!” Which I think is rather good. “Brine shrimp” would probably be better, but hey. I was unconscious.
A friend of mine got taken in by that Sea Monkey ad. A very, very stupid friend. He must have got the temperature wrong or something, because all he got was a sad plastic castle full of smelly water. If you’ve ever wondered, here’s what healthy brine shrimp look like at five weeks old.