Dust Bowl Dreamin'

So what does a Dust Bowl town, an old barn, a tornado, and actor Luis Guzman have in common? They were all in my dream last night.

I often remember my dreams. Sometimes I'll take the time to write them down when I wake up, because something really sparked in my imagination. But last night's was one of those rarer dreams--the kind of dream in which I remember consciously thinking and making choices. Sort of like what folks call lucid dreaming.

I remember it taking place in a ramshackled barn that served as...something. Not a restaurant, but maybe a blacksmith shop? Dunno, but a guy who looked just like Luis Guzman (and I have no idea why he was in my dream) ran the place. I was a stranger in town, looking for work. Stuff happened. A tornado was coming, so a bunch of us hid in the basement.

The really vivid, surreal part of the dream was the bit of conversation in the basement. He asked why I was there. I remember thinking "I can't tell him the truth, not all of it. He won't understand. Be vague." So I lied to Guzman.

When I woke up, I had to really think about this dream. I came to the conclusion that I didn't recall ever having such a conscious internal dialogue during a dream. I definitely recall a dream in which I realized I was dreaming, and therefore decided I wanted to fly (and flew). But not internal decision making and dialogue.

It was pretty weird.