I dreamt last night that I was having a most terrible day, but not the sort of tragic terrible; rather, a mundane terrible. My glasses broke into two. It was a brand new pair. Then I took out my old one and found that it too had broken into two. And so I had to put on the older pair which I don’t really like because its too rectangular and small for my face. I was also not having any particular fun in whatever activity I was participating in. It’s like being at one of those parties you don’t enjoy, and yet you’re staying there hoping that somehow something will happen and make it far more enjoyable; but really you already have a fantasy in your mind which locks your happiness in place, and no other circumstance would ever make you happy. So it was that my mundane day was terrible, and when I got home, I ran immediately into my mother’s bosom, hugged her tightly and started to cry about my terrible day.
I surmise that the cause of this dream was the discomfort in the throat that kept me coughing and jerking when I so desperately wanted to fall asleep. Lying in the bed was torture. And the torture must have made its way into my sleep as well.