Last night I dreamt I was riding a motorcycle down a hill on a major highway.
Which sounds like it should have a been a very cool, exciting dream; full of adventure and awesomeness. Nope.
Here's how my psyche chose to play it: The motorcycle ran out of gas. And even then, the thought in my head wasn't, "How am I going to get home?" It was, "Oh Man, now I'm going to have to walk alongside my motorcycle, pushing it down the highway and people driving along will think I was afraid to ride it down this hill, so I got off and walked next to it." Hmmm.
Then I dreamt about comic books.