Sweet Dreams.

My work schedule has been kind of jacked lately. For those out of the loop, I write content marketing copy. It can be a little soulless sometimes, but whenever possible, I try to write compelling copy for products and services people actually want and need.

In the past, I’ve had my fair share of bullshit products to push. Things like Apple Watch knock offs, ill-fated vacation destinations, goofy takes on ice cream that are just venues through which novelty can be used to con people out of $15, clothes... God, clothing people are the absolute worst of them. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone’s got to wear something. But if I ask you what makes people want to spend $350 on a blouse, and the best answer you can offer me is “because we’re telling them how much to pay for it,” then you clearly ended up missing the point completely at some time in your life.

These days, there’s a stasis. I’m good at selling houses using words, so qualified real estate people can get through the door and drive the point home. Folks need a place to live. Recently, I had the opportunity to work with an individual who imports traditional Latin American products into the States and waaaaay overcharges for them. What makes her different? She gives literally half the proceeds back to the women’s co-ops who manufacture them (not common in imports like this, where usually, the seller pays $5 to the manufacturer, the buyer pays $60, and the other $55 goes into a greedy pocket. In this case, everybody wins). Otherwise, I try to give back. I’m working with a program in the United States, sort of pro-bono stuff, where I provide free marketing copy to an organization that takes first generation college students and recruits them to be mentors for elementary school students. If you saw their website, you would understand that they need every bit of help they can get. Nice folks.

An occasional interview. The other day, I had a rare but dreaded zoom call with a company that, and I swear to God this is true: while I’m not a genius, I’m not a moron… I still have no idea exactly what it is they do. Apparently it was important to them that I do B2B writing, which I don’t; and that what I do right is marketed directly to more “cynical analytical” types, who typically respond poorly to emotional content because they “don’t like to be bullshitted.” Eegh. I’m glad I didn’t get the job. Venture-capital weirdos. I gave them six months.

Thing is, for the first time in a while, all of my clients are located within North America. And, I need to be on call for them. Keeping normal business hours is something that COVID-19 hasn’t quite changed yet.

So, what does that mean for me… It means that my clients are having their first cup of coffee when it’s already 2 in the afternoon here. So, I get to sleep at my usual wee hours of the morning, hopefully before the sun comes up, because I’ll just be buggered at that point. And then lately, accidentally, I’ll end up sleeping in.

Do you know that period of time when you are just waking up, and the dreams are most vivid? That’s usually 10 minutes, tops. For me, a lot of mornings have involved that period of time lasting a couple of hours, partially because I’ve gotten to the point where I intentionally want it to. I’ve been experimenting with lucid dreaming lately — that method of harnessing and taking control of your dream state, and weaving your own internal reality. I’m not fantastic at it yet, but I’m actually getting really good. Creative ideas that I never would’ve had while I’m awake, take form in the most abstract of ways. And instantly. It’s almost like watching a movie every morning before getting out of bed. I’ve even been getting better at dream journaling, too. It’s led to some pretty crazy revelations. Add notions that never would have otherwise been given a voice.

Dreams are a lot like elevator pitches… You only have 20 seconds to talk about them, no matter how fascinating they are, before the person listening just gets bored. So, I’m not going to tell you what any of these dreams are. Suffice it to say, in the days and weeks coming forward, I can assure you that you loyal lovelies will be the benefactors of that weird, organically brewed abstraction.

Do you ever wonder if the person who invents some device that allows you to record your dreams will be the world’s first trillionaire? Do you think that this technology will usher in some new age of human understanding, or do you think it will be something cheap, like the 2050s version of sharing pictures of your vacation on Instagram?

Whatever the case, I would still give anything to know exactly what it was the strippers, Kennedy and Stalin said to me while we were having brunch on the Great Wall of China.

(Bonus points if you appreciate how an Oxford comma would have changed the meaning of that sentence completely.)