in dreams...

i'm not a dreamer... to clarify: i don't often remember my dreams... one of my roomies tends to wake up just about every morning to tell me how i made a guest appearance in her latest slumber escapade or how she survived some odd-ball death defying moment with grace and style... but me, no dice... once i wake, it's gone; if it ever existed...

once i had a dream that i went to my prom with the cool kids from beverly hills 90210... that's about the only dream i truly remember... i wore a hideous dress and partied away with brandon, brenda, donna, david, kelly, steve and of course dylan... hubba hubba...

this morning though, i woke up because of a dream... one of those personally unpleasant adventures where it seems as though your subconscious took charge and begged you to search within yourself to make some sense of it all... it was a dream that mirrored the night out i'd just come home from... toss in a few past memories and characters and it was a smorgasbord of everything that i've questioned in the last six months... like "this is your life" minus a muppet of guy smiley...

maybe it was due to my chronic insomnia, or maybe partially the effect of the gin and cranberry beverages i'd consumed only hours earlier... regardless, it's a hell of a lot easier waking up to a clear head... stupid metaphorical dreams only lead to writer's block...