To Dream is to Become

For almost 3 weeks, I have been having the most hilarious yet disturbing dreams. In each one, Someone comes in and asks me, "What do you want? Really want? You can have it if you ask for it." Then a scenario plays out offering me something. At the end, I'm asked again if it's what I really want. Very strange.

Most of them have been downright ridiculous. There was the one where I inherited a garden gnome who planted a rose garden for me. Another where Ed McMahon hired me to carry big checks - and if the people didn't sign them correctly, then he and I split the cash from the check. And my personal favorite - where I won the lottery.

This is funny because my religious leaders discourage playing the lottery and the Church won't accept donations from lottery money. So, I don't play. But in my dream, I was watching the Powerball draw. I'm fascinated by the machine. One of my early, early memories is watching the machine on TV and feeling compelled by it. In th dream, I was indulging this continued amazement with simple technology. The numbers were drawn. Then the Powerball came out.

It had no number. Just a name. MY name.

The phone rang. It was the lottery commissioner. I told him, "I don't play the lottery. I can't be the winner."

He became flustered and told me that the money had already been deposited in my bank account.

"Well, I don't want it," I retorted. "I can't pay tithing on it, so I don't want it."

He started to yell at me. "You have to take it! We already used it to buy big, expensive houses for every member of your family! Your name was on the ball! It's yours! Take it!"

We argued for several more minutes but to no avail. The money was mine. I could not give it back and if I donated it all to charity "the IRS will come and take away all your favorite things" the lottery commissioner assured.

I informed the Someone wandering around my dreams that I most definitely did not want that scenario.