For most of my life I have not dreamed, or I cannot remember them after I wake. For the past few weeks my nights have been filled with rapid-fire vignettes, like a permanent sketch comedy show playing in my skull.
Last night I dreamt I was back in school. I did not dream I was late for class, that I missed the big test, that I was naked and unable to open my locker. No, I dreamed I got mugged and missed lunch.
Psych majors all over the country will scratch their heads over that one.
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