I wish my dreams were a little less realistic, maybe a little more fantastic. I tend to dream about mundane things, often close enough to my daily life to make me unsure later if I dreamed it or if it really happened. (Did I pick up my prescription or just dream about it? Are we still out of milk? Maybe I only dreamed I got some from the store.) Other times, my dreams are too close to real life for comfort, like the other night when I dreamed about work. I dreamed about specific tasks I had to do this week, actual real documents I have to write or review – I feel like I should charge the customer for the hours I was sleeping. The only unrealistic thing about it was that I was in the office with my coworkers. (Maybe that counts as a nightmare.) I suppose last night’s dream was a little less like real life. I dreamed I was taking a walk in the woods and I found two bear cubs, and they were adorable and playful and they followed me home even though I was trying to leave them in the woods, and then their mama bear (even though one was a panda cub and one was a red panda cub, the mama was a big brown bear) was in the room, and I was trying to edge past her to get away, hoping she’d be focused on the cubs near the opposite wall, but she saw me and she chased me, and yeah, okay, that dream was nothing like real life.