Other People's Dreams

I have some really weird dreams. I don't mean the ones where I go to teach at my old high school and find that I didn't pass my senior year and have to take English and Science while teaching a history class that includes every person who has ever been mean to me. Talk about overcrowded classrooms. I'm not thinking about the standard anxiety dreams: Tornadoes, tidal waves, sharks, Nazis, all of the above (man that was an anxiety dream!)

I'm not even talking about the very rare but disturbing premonitions of birth or death. I'm OK with my grandmother coming back to me and giving me fashion advice, especially since her taste has improved since she died. I'm hoping that when Mom gets settled in, she'll tell me something other than "quit giving away my things." No, those are all regular dreams.

I dream other people's dreams. The first time I remember dreaming what didn't seem to be my dream, I was stamping papers with a copy stamp, wearing a red sweater and black & white hounds tooth skirt, and someone said "Have you finished that yet Garcia?" I said no, but thought that was strange, since my name is not Garcia. I told my friends about this, and they said I should buy a red sweater and black & white hounds tooth skirt, because that sounded cool, and forget about the dream. So I did. Buy the outfit, not forget the dream.

Since then, I've had several dreams in which I am someone else. Sometimes I am a man instead of a woman. I have been of a different race or ethnicity. As far as I know, I always speak English, since I understand what's going on, sort of. I am surrounded by family and friends who are not mine, but accept me as theirs. It's a little like the television show Quantum Leap, where I am the only one who knows I'm different.

I wonder if these dreams are the stories I should be writing. I hope not, since they are pretty boring. I should probably apologize to whoever's dreams I'm having, since I've not only stolen them, I've insulted them. Sorry.

Maybe I'm dreaming the dreams of all of the insomniacs within my range. If more people take Rozarium (or whatever it's called), I'll go back to my own dreams.

There is probably a perfectly rational explanation, and I don't want to hear it. Right now, I'm enjoying solving other people's problems and dreaming other people's dreams. It's much easier that way.