Listen up kids, when you’ve been around as long as I have there’s a real temptation to look back at the past with rose tinted lenses. But this is one exception where my perception is not skewing my reflection: my dreams. When I was a kid I had the best dreams: I used to fancifully fantasize about flying, about being an astronaut, about having a mother who would tell me that I was spec- I mean tell me that I was specializing in advanced neurosurgery as she handed me my MD from Harvard. But let’s admit it nowadays I’m not as young as I used to be. My idea of a bender only lasts two days not a week, I often go to sleep before midnight so I feel fresh for the morning class that I actually attend, and I routinely call home so I can add to the pileup of voicemails after my mother’s pre-recorded voice explains that “she’ll try to respond promptly to matters of importance” before the beep.
While that is a little disheartening is that my literal dreams have also failed to amaze as I’ve grown older. I recently, and I kid you not, had a dream where I ran out of milk. THat was it. That was the entire dream. Of all the myriad fanciful realities my subconscious could put together, could there be a more plausible reverie!! I woke up that morning thinking I had actually run out of milk, like my hippocampus decided to play the lamest prank on me in the entire world. And when it comes to getting mildly tricked out by your own freaking brain, i managed to top myself just a week ago, by dreaming that I got handed back a test and got a 67%. That was my crazy scenario for the night, getting a C+. Let me tell you, I’ve gotten a high sixty before and I can comfortably say I would describe a C plus the exact same way my mother would describe me: a resounding meh. I didn’t fail or get perfect plus bonus marks, I got handed back the test by my TA and I was mildly deflated by the mediocre result. And again, this such a plausible fucking situation that I even mentioned it to the voicemail I sent to my mom that morning, and boy let me tell you she was not surprised by either that I got that mark, or that I was so inane that I believed my dream was real. She even mentioned it in her trimonthly text where she sends me a series of affirmations and signs off with “cordially yours”: “I will not be pathetic, or I will not be able to convince myself I am pathetic”… inspiring!! I love my mother she’s the best, and if you’re reading this Mrs. Biggs (that’s what my mother insists I call her in public), I really hope that I will earn a hug from you one day!
Anyways, the takeaway from this editorial for you folks is that don’t give up on your dreams, and if that fails, don’t start giving up on your dreams about your dreams. Always aspire to do better at something you have no control over and if you beat yourself up about it for long enough your mother will eventually love you! As my mother said at my 7th birthday party: “Family are the friends you didn’t get to choose!” So go out there and make that choice easy on your loved ones by forging yourself into something to be proud of!