Dreams I Might Have Had

There's the Rub

William Shakespeare once said, "To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub." An interesting thing about chance is that, well, some people just have rotten luck. They say all of us dream. Between that time we pop the switch on that little light next to our beds and the time the sunlight smacks us up side the head in the morning, we fit, on average, two hours of dreaming into a night.

Scientists say that everybody dreams. Everybody, every single one of us on this silly blue ball of a planet, dreams every single time we lay our heads down to sleep. Some folks remember each and every vivid detail of every one of those dreams. Some folks only dream in black and white-remembering bits and pieces-here and there of what existed only in their subconscious. And, others? A few, a rare few, "other" people don't remember their dreams at all. That's where I fit in. When it comes to remembering my dreams, I got nothing. Not just murky darkness and vague recollections, or small fragments of dreams, like most folks can recall-I actually have nothing-a zero, zip, nada, kind of nothing. When I wake in the morning, it's like I just put my head down and, BAM! seven hours just disappeared before the sun came up yet again. *Poof*