A few nights ago I awoke from a dream that was so boring I found myself searching my bedside table for a remote control. I wanted to change to a different dream before falling back asleep, because I couldn’t take another 4 hours of whatever it was I had been dreaming about. I laugh at myself now, because:
First, I don’t own a television and it has been years since I regularly used a remote to change channels on anything. Apparently the action of changing your environment by pointing a chunk of plastic at it is a primal instinct that never goes away. Fight or Flight or Change the Channel.
Finally, I have no idea why I would want anything less than a very boring night’s sleep. My everyday life is full of the most bizarre and confusing people and situations, I believe boring dreams are my body’s safety mechanism to keep me sane.
For instance, this morning. I woke up to a small girl with a plate loaded with mandarin oranges walking into our room singing “Happy Birthday”. As my mind tried to process what was going on, a midget popped up which had apparently been sleeping between me and my wife, and she angrily started yelling “That’s. Not. A Cake! No No No. That’s Not a Cake!” while pointing angrily with her finger at the plate of oranges. The singing child ignored the protests and began passing out fruit “One for you, and one for you…”
Her mother, instantly seeing an opportunity to make this weird situation into a math lesson, pointed out that there were five oranges and four people. “That’s right,” said the little girl. “I’m four, and there are four of us.” Her mother then pointed out that when she is five, there would be five of us. The little girl started jumping up and down happily and began to take it further by saying, “Yes, and then when I’m-” But she was cut off by a unanimous groan of “No!!” from every adult in the room. I covered my head with blankets and begged to return to the a dream world of blissful boredom.