There was a time when I could say those four words and capture the attention of anyone sitting at the breakfast table. I used to have dreams so fantastic I simultaneously loved and dreaded falling asleep. They were never good dreams in the sense of being beautiful, kind and true. They were good in terms of being great entertainment in the morning light after the night was over.
In one dream my father was being attacked on the hair-challenged part of his head by a lamb. In true "everything-is-conveniently-placed-cartoon-fashion" I picked up a nearby 2x4 and batted the lamb off his head into our front yard. In another dream my mom and I were being chased through a parking lot by a mustachioed man wielding a pistol. We made it into our faux-wood paneled mini-van and the man jumped on top to rock it back and forth. In another, and more recent, I was shot in the back for standing up for something I believe in. I've had falling dreams before but not a dream where I actually felt impact from a bullet. Of course, now that I'm writing these out they don't seem terribly hysterical except that this is, or rather has been, my trend. "I had a dream" meant a dream worth a few minutes attempting to interpret (and usually at least one family member trying to figure out what I had against them at the time).
It's been a long time (months) since I've even dreamed vividly enough to recall anything. The last two nights have tragically changed that. No longer are my dreams an exercise in my subconcious creativity; they are now a repetition of the mundane. I dreamed two nights ago of working in my office (whoop-de-doo) and last night of riding in an elevator with a former volleyball coach. Who wants to interpret those?
To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. I hope this is not indicative of the direction of my life. Did I have all my exciting dreams when I was younger because that was when I had goals for my life? Now that I've achieved those on my list and reached a sense of stability have I dulled my subconcious? I need some more life goals. If I have more life goals, I have a crazier schedule and possibly more Rebecca-standard dreams.
This is all conjecture. I'm having a hard time accepting that "I had a dream" has gone from a mildly interesting story to a mere regurgitation of prosaic activities.
Time for bed.