The Things That Dreams Are Made Of
My dreams have taken a turn for the worse.
Whereas once I would have anxiety dreams over missed homework assignments or labyrinthine trips in foreign countries, I now dream of broken iPhones.
Of taking a dip in the ocean only to discover I left my iPhone in my pocket. Or of scrapping the back pane of my iPhone against my jean rivets.
Apparently, it is the losing teeth dream of the 10s.
Never before has an object I owned wormed its way so insidiously into my unconscious. I can't help but wonder if I alone suffer this malady because I used to work in the iPhone morgue or if this is an early indicator of the brain cancer I am bound to develop from our love affair with RF waves.
Whereas once I would have anxiety dreams over missed homework assignments or labyrinthine trips in foreign countries, I now dream of broken iPhones.
Of taking a dip in the ocean only to discover I left my iPhone in my pocket. Or of scrapping the back pane of my iPhone against my jean rivets.
Apparently, it is the losing teeth dream of the 10s.
Never before has an object I owned wormed its way so insidiously into my unconscious. I can't help but wonder if I alone suffer this malady because I used to work in the iPhone morgue or if this is an early indicator of the brain cancer I am bound to develop from our love affair with RF waves.
posted by d l wright at 8/26/2010 10:34:00 PM
1 Comments:
My dread dreams have, lately, been about bureaucracy, lines and poor customer service. Fortunately, dropping my iPhone in the toilet while I'm naked at the beach hasn't popped up yet.
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