The Critical Mass

One-reel nightmares

Perhaps my sleep patterns have changed. My Rapid Eye Movement phases may be overlapping my slow-wave sleep phases. But for the first time in years, I’ve been remembering my dreams when I wake up.

They’re not epic dreams. More like one-reel shorts. Or, from my perspective, one-reel nightmares. A couple of nights ago, I dreamed I was at my high school reunion, and my old classmates mistook me for a waiter at the restaurant. Maybe it was because I was wearing a white jacket. One of them handed me an empty plate. “Sure,” I said, “I’ll take care of that for you.”

Last night, I dreamed that I was told by the editors of the newspaper where I work that at noon every day I would have to stand on a highway overpass and report on traffic conditions.

I’m sure I’m ready for analysis.