Dreams of Summer

I handed in my letter of resignation last Saturday. It was a bold move because I still have no plans for the future. Maybe the fact that a week from now I'll be unemployed will be enough to motivate me. I spent a lot of time yesterday trying to decide what I should be doing. Should I continue living here? Move to the city? Where will I work? It must have been weighing on my mind because the answer came to me in a dream that night. I had a wonderful dream where I lived in our travel trailer on the beach and worked as an actor with the local theatre company. By day, I took in the sun, the sand and the waves and had drinks with interesting tourists. By night, I performed a supporting role in a crowd-pleasing murder mystery. And in those first few glorious, naive moments when I first woke up, I congratulated myself for having come up with such a stellar plan. And then it slowly dawned on me that not only am I not an actor, but we sold the trailer from my dream eleven years ago. And that's why I hate dreams.