I never remember my dreams. Well, almost never. When I do, it's generally because I was interrupted, and they're a completely surreal mash of many sources that I can't even begin to describe.
This morning I woke with the memory of a dream that by my own standards is completely normal. To the point of being boring:
I was at the Apple Store. The one in the airport (?). I was desperately trying to buy a machine while trying to catch a flight. Not a laptop, but not a desktop either. The store was filled with museum cases with old Apple hardware on display. Nowhere could I find a demo of the hardware I wanted to buy. The sales clerk was the manager I'm on loan to (for the Deathmarch-Project-From-Hell), and he was singularly unhelpful. My blood pressure kept rising, as I was sure I was going to miss my flight. In the end, I think I did miss it, and I may have managed to buy the machine I wanted, but I'm not sure.
Where's the surreal weirdness? Why am I telling you about a boring anxiety dream?
Last night, Chiara dreamed I bought a Mac Mini.
