“It’s always been my dream to … it’s like a dream come true” and other phrases in common use all imply that dreams are wonderful things. They can’t be referring to what happens in your head while asleep. At least not my head. Here’s what I woke from this morning:
I was entwined in an erotic embrace with a gorgeous black woman. She looked at me through heavy-lidded eyes and breathed: “Do you have an air fryer?”. Momentarily put off my stride, I said I had. “Maybe,” she whispered, “we could use it together some time.”
And then I woke up. Dreams are rubbish.