Apparently my subconscious is a grade-A sociopath.

My dreams never seem to have a lot of symbolic merit... generally they're like bad action movies. Last night, I was crouched behind a brick mailbox outside a bank, holding a black snub-nose .38 Special. Kyra and my mom were sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of a sedan parked in front--Mom with a revolver like mine, and Kyra with a semiautomatic. I had to show Kyra how to use hers. (Which was fun, to be honest.)

I can't remember what we were trying to steal, but I don't think it was just a simple bank robbery. Anyway, I was still checking the cylinder when about a dozen guys ran out the front door with Kalashnikovs. I guess these were the bad guys, because I started shooting, and took out two of them (with only six rounds... I'm quite a marksman), and then we ran off, and I woke up.

I fell back asleep almost immediately, and found myself again crouched behind cover, facing a highway onramp that was barricaded by a tanker truck hastily parked across it. Inside the truck was a nuclear device, and my mission, oddly enough, was to either steal or detonate it. You know, whichever is easier. I had a vague awareness that I was the bad guy, but I didn't really care. The driver of the truck was heavily armed, and had me pinned down behind whatever I was hiding behind. So I had to sneak around, climb up the overpass, and wait for him to give up and drive away. As the truck approached my hiding place, I found an MP5 submachine gun (just lying around, I guess), and took a few careful shots at the windshield and the engine block.

The driver panicked and lost control of the truck, crashing it into the side wall, whereupon I jumped out from my cover and ran toward the cab, firing wildly to keep him pinned down. He stumbled out of the truck, clearly disoriented, and I grabbed him from behind and choked him out.

Then I looked up, and realized I was playing Counter-Strike at a party with a bunch of people I didn't know, except for one or two old high school acquaintances. Which explained my laid-back attitude toward the morality of what I'd been doing, I suppose. And then I woke up for real. It's been a weird morning.

--Kevin