the unconcious mind at work
After waking up the other day, I hung around the apartment for a while and then got bored. I decided to wake up Sarah, even though I knew she wanted to sleep in. It was getting late.
“What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“Twelve thirty,” I said. Her face assumed a stricken look.
“I had a dream that it was ten-thirty,” she said fretfully.
That is the best dream I’ve ever heard. She had a dream that it was just slightly earlier than it really was. Brilliant. Sometimes, the unconcious is miraculously untroubled.
