Dreams have always been a very important part of my life. I’ve always believed that dreams are gifts that tell us something about ourselves. In dreams you can sort out problems, fall in-and-out of love with no consequences, travel into the future, explore the past, fly like superman; you name it, in dreams, you can do it. My dreams have inspired me to write, have brought me to tears, turned me into a voracious sleep talker, (apparently), and at times left me completely baffled at what they might mean!

Last night I dreamed my sister Carolyn won $50,000 dollars in some lottery. She gave my older sister and me $200 dollars each and said she was saving the rest to help our Mom pay her bills. I thought about this within the dream. I marveled at what a good person she was, considering the fact that she drives a beater car, needs all kinds of repairs done on her home and that Mom has been deceased just a few days shy of 10 years. I thought better of saying something, and didn’t mention it.

The other dream I had last night was a bit more disturbing. I walked out into my garage and there was a guy hanging off of it like a barnacle on the underside of a boat. He was drilling into the gas tank of my new Rav4. I charged toward him screaming, “Hey get out from under there! What do you think you’re doing?” He didn’t even flinch but kept drilling with this manual drill of sorts.

I reached under the vehicle and grabbed him by the collar, trying to extricate him, but to no avail. Suddenly I hear gas gushing out of the vehicle and he rolls out from under it, spewing expletives. I stand there mouth agape as someone stops him cold, by shooting him right in the middle of his forehead. I’m not sure who did it, only that it wasn’t me. I was, however getting ready to thank them when my alarm went off this morning.

Okay no more peanut butter brownies before bed!