I had a dream

Not to be confused with I have a dream. This is about an actual dream. I remember almost all of my dreams these days, as I tend to be ripped from them unceremoniously by the scream of a baby. My dreams end with the scratchy shriek of a record ripped from a record player (remember those?), but I do remember them.

In this particular dream, I was being given a tour of the prison I was about to enter for 26 years. The tour was pleasant and reminiscent of a college orientation - here is the gym, here are the medical facilities. I was to enter the prison the following morning, but first had to have some dental work done. Why was I going to prison? This part was vague, but my impression is that I had stolen a car. I realized, part way through my prison tour, that I would miss the children growing up, and I got very sad.

Then I woke up, started spending time with my children, and decided to steal a car. Ha! Just kidding!

Things to note (I'm list-prone these days, helps my feeble brain feel orderly):

1. I would have suspected that any crime I'd commit would be more violent and less materially-based than grand theft auto.

2. In my dream, I didn't consider for a moment that my husband might not still be waiting for me 26 years later. I must have a lot of faith in our marriage. Good to know.

3. I really should call the dentist. It's been awhile.

I have a dream. Sort of.

At long last, I am writing the promised life dream post. As is my wont, I'm already changing my mind about this, because my attention span can be best measured in seconds, not years or even months, but here it is anyway:

I want to buy a small farm (a farmette, if you will) near the city. Just a few acres. I want to have a couple horses (this is the only part of the dream that has actually persisted throughout my entire life) and some goats. I need the goats - and this is the part that puts my husband into hysterics - so I can card their wool, spin it into yarn, and knit it. Oh, and I want to homeschool my kids on the farm.

It's funny that I'm visualizing this possible future 10 years after moving to the city to start my IT career. I remember that year well, and my dreams then involved climbing the corporate ladder fast and breaking any glass ceilings I encountered. I was engaged, but to someone I actually didn't like all that well (what can I say, my past is littered with ill-conceived choices), and although I knew I wanted children some day, I imagined that day to be far off into the future. Plus, I think I had some vague notion that I could be uber-career-girl AND have a family, having bought the feminist ideals of my mother's generation wholesale and forgetting (or having not yet discovered) that I totally and completely suck on no sleep. And am pretty lazy, really. Oh, and hate working.

I'm fickle, though. I started looking at houses for sale around here the other night (we're not moving, I was just killing time), and found a really gorgeous, huge old house that costs a fortune. So that made me think I should go back to work and make boatloads of money and buy a large house. Why are my dreams so immoderate? I want either extreme simplicity or extreme luxury. Well, since simplicity is cheaper, that's not as hard a decision as it sounds.

What I should dream of is becoming a competitive eating champion. I could totally win at eating. I have been blowing through an alarming amount of food this week, even by my own usually very high standards.