"...5, 6, 7, 8!"

I just woke up from an elaborate dream with mid-budget musical sequences about the (non-existent) salt mines of Pittsburgh, indie videogame development, elevated public transit, and falling for a girl who may or may not feel the same way.

While I cannot remember any of the songs, I remember them having actual lyrics. This feels like something that should not happen in a dream. When you read lucid dreaming guides, they recommend doing things that require a certain permanence not usually present in the nocturnal imagination to determine if you are dreaming—looking at your hands, gazing into a mirror, checking a clock for the time, trying to read text.

However, that last one is of note to me because in two fairly recent dreams (one was just a couple of days ago) I successfully read signs. What do these peculiar developments in my dream life mean? The optimist in me is promoting the idea that this is a sign that I am gifted in language arts. The rest of me, however, feels that particular explanation is a delusion of grandeur.

To make things even more surreal, I wish I had a Snuggie right now. We have one (a stunning cheetah print item), but I cannot find it, and I’m trying to use my arms to type while covering my torso with a blanket!

Pictured: journalism.