dream, interrupted


When I dream, it’s usually in the wee hours of the morning. The conditions need to be just right for me to get into a pattern of lucid, complicated dreams: adequate sleep, few preoccupations and sufficient distance from an often restless dog.

Lately I’ve been so preoccupied with work worries that they’ve been creeping into my subconscious. If I had a dollar for every time I dreamed about opening and closing tickets, or prioritizing a work queue, I’d be able to retire. (Note to self: recommend new compensation model.)

A few nights ago, the stars seemingly aligned. I was having not only a vivid dream, but one about Todos Santos. It was beautiful and mysterious, but sadly short-lived. Our dog shifted ever so slightly, waking me from sleep, and try as I might, I wasn’t able to fall back to sleep, let alone to hit the resume button on my dream. I guess I’ll just have to resort to daydreaming then…

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