Sunday, August 29, 2021, 9:42 am

End of summer

Lorelai Gilmore smelled snow. Yet this isn’t quite like that.

I dream about it. Usually about a month before it hits.

Last night, I dreamt about snow. A wonderful, fluffy, deep snowfall. The kind that dogs run with their noses down and look like mini snow plows as they run through the yard.

A snow that makes the world appear fresh and bright and new. The kind I haven’t seen in a while… or at least hasn’t stuck around.

The last two winters were sad. No dreams, and barely any snow. Or cold, for that matter.

In addition to the snow (hopefully, I’m not jinxing it by writing about it), my dreams reminded me of the decisions I have managed to avoid making all summer. Now that summer is ending, what’s next? What do I still own? Am I homeless?

Frequently in dreams, I find myself in a new house. For a while, I fancied myself becoming a real estate investor… which might enable me to enjoy the rich life I desire. Yet, to date, I have failed to pull my head out of my ass, in most areas. One notable exception, is I have discovered how to live with less, so that I can manage a fun, carefree lifestyle while squeaking out a meager living.

So, I got that going for me. Which is nice.

This dream reminded me that I still have a subconscious desire to be rich. To have properties that earn me money while I sleep.

Yet, it also placed me back into the tech field. Which I abhor. In the dream, I found myself back in an office—albeit running the office this time. I had underlings who had a new product called “It Go,” which they were pitching to me. Not that I had a choice in running with the product.

In this failing company (in real life, it no longer exists at all), I had been brought back in to spearhead the project—only to oversee it, and maybe guide it. Management. I’d be responsible for its success and/or its failure. And I’d be the first to go in the event of its failure.

A beautiful woman from my past had found me. At work. And followed me home. This is a real possibility in real life as well, and one that makes me apprehensive.

Perhaps it is not realistic to live an obligation free life.

The home we lived in was nice, even if we were renting out rooms to others. The job was set to provide a nice living.

She would not have tolerated the neighbor’s dog, however. Never have I ever met anyone who hates dogs as much as this girl.

I do wonder, however, where it is that these dreams come from? Is it like playing Second Life? Is it our subconscious trying to reach out? To remind us of responsibilities?

Or is it merely entertainment during our nightly regeneration, not to be taken seriously…

What i'm listening to:
Dream Police Dream Police
Cheap Trick
Dream Police
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