In the last 2 weeks I have gotten my dreams back. This is big news for a chronic insomniac with racing thoughts. Since forever I have tried to quiet my mind, tossed and turned, gotten up to pee (or snack), and awoken agitated and misaligned. I couldn’t remember what I ate for dinner, let alone what I dreamt.
Recently I have been getting glimpses of what my mind does when I am not awake. Some dreams are fantastical, some mundane. They come to me suddenly when I am taking my time getting ready. I sit and try to recall, smiling as they vanish faster than they arrived.
The bait-and-switch is something the dreams that I craft in consciousness do as well. I am always restless. If you ask me why, I will give you a list of things that, although I am sometimes overwhelmed, do not exhaust me. After recounting the joy I found in remembering my dreams while sleeping, the reason my total life has restless leg syndrome was quite apparent.
I’m restless because I no longer dream IN LIFE.
How Did I Get Here?
Most days are the same. Wake up too late. Walk the dog. Throw something on. Go to work. Come Home. Walk the dog. Frankly, I could manage my life in my sleep. I’m not complaining. I am amazingly lucky and blessed. I am a hard worker. My hard work has gotten me where I am today.
The problem is, it’s not where I want to be. It isn’t even the next county over.
I wanted the life no one with my background is supposed to want. Living in the East Village, hiding out from the landlord, creating writing and hustling until I became Mindy Kaling. Or at least one of Mindy Kaling’s writing staff.
In the meantime, I observe my friends who have spent the last 7 years in abject poverty in pursuit of their creative dreams are beginning to reap the rewards. They do not have 401ks and they work like dogs, but when I see them they smile the largest, most genuine smiles I have seen in my life.
I want to smile those smiles.
You know, the smiles I smile in my dreams.