The army is having an odd impact on my ability to remember my dreams. Science insists that we dream every night, no matter what we remember the next morning. Most folks, I imagine, have two or three dreams a week that stick in their memory. I have only one, and for my first three weeks in the army it followed the same pattern. Every Friday night, after a long week of lights out snoozing, I would wake Shabbat morning with a vivid dream. All of them were variations on the same theme, documenting in different settings my commitment to be serving in my unit.
All well and good. Until this past week, when my routine was interrupted by a terrifyingly life-like dream that had nothing at all to do with anything. Batman, script rewrites and murderous siblings... The moment I awoke the memories began to fade and it was all I could do to scribble down what I could remember of the drama that had accompanied me through the night. My scribbles threw off my morning schedule and sure enough, I was late for the morning formation. It was difficult not to smile when my commander asked me with a scowl why I was late. Its a long story, I told him, most of which I don't remember.
OMG…He’s Got a Gun
1 year ago