Dreamweaver

Last night, I had the most lucid dream I have had in years.

I was just off Exit 186a on Interstate 85 South, supervising a field worker as he checked the bacteria levels at Falls Lake. He was in the water, but I was the boss so I wasn't getting wet. I felt very smug about this fact. This went on for what seemed like hours.

I kid you not. That was it. Nothing else happened.

While I have never put much stock in dream analysis before, now I'm a bit worried. If I were to listen to Freud, it would seem like my Id is a great big science-geek-loser. My Super-ego says, "Hey, she's asleep, let's go fly around like a superhero or shag somebody famous, c'mon it'll be fun!".

But my Id says, "Slow down there, Chester. My Blackberry, the one I keep in my plastic pocket protector here, says we have an appointment to breed fruit flies. Did you know you can try to mutate their genes, but they always turn out to be fruit flies? Now THAT'S fun."

Super-ego whines, "That sounds boring. Can we at least be naked while we do that?"

Id, shocked, exclaims, "Heavens to Betsy, we can't have the fruit flies landing on anything that might contaminate their DNA! I'm going to the lab."

Superego rolls its eyes and slinks off in embarrassment to join Ego, who was already wisely hiding in a closet so it wouldn't run into anyone it knew.

I'm concerned about the message my subconscious is sending me. Is it possible that deep down I am Ned Flanders?

D'oh!