The S.C.I.E.N.C.E. of Crazy Cheese Dreams: A Journal
In line with what witches have been crying since Victorian times, a study by the British Cheese Board (not a giant wooden board, as I initially thought) claims that eating cheese really does promote vivid dreaming, and that different cheeses provide different dream experiences. Cheddar, for example, may prompt dreams about celebrities. This sounded like nonsense to me but, as a scientist, I believe in testing theories. So, every night last week, I ate four ounces of a different cheese half an hour before bedtime and kept a dream journal. Here are the results.
Tried to save money by skipping premium cheddar for Key Foods Extra Sharp. This proved a mistake. I could only dream of D-list celebrities. On the plus side, I have a great new idea for a reality TV show.
Dreamed I was French kissing my crush. More berets and croissants than I would normally go for, but context is everything. "More camembert?" "Oui, Madame!"
Lulled immediately into a deep sleep. Dreamed I had just graduated top of my class from Yale Law. Took an entry-level job at a prestigious Manhattan firm, worked hard, persevered. Within five years, I made partner. I had a sweet apartment, wealth, love, and the envy of my peers. On my way to take a deposition for a major case, I was struck by an SUV, rushed to hospital with two broken legs and a fractured spine. My HMO paid for my surgery but not my four-month hospital stay or my extensive rehabilitation. After a year of hard work I was finally able to walk again, but carried almost $300,000 in debt. My credit rating tanked. I couldn’t find an apartment. With an 18-month gap in my resume, no law firm would hire me. I slept in a pile of old torts textbooks to keep warm, but midway through the night, they would always have slid off me, leaving me shivering. I woke in a cold sweat to discover that it was only 3 a.m. I have to go back to sleep and do all this again. THE AMERICAN DREAM IS A LIE.
Cave-Aged Gruyere. A Vision in a Dream. A Fragment:
I dreamed of a fantastic landscape with a river and incredible caverns, peopled by monsters and demons. There was a lot more and it was really good, but after I wrote that first sentence, my mom called my cellphone to interrogate me about my iron levels. If there's iron in cheese, she needn't worry! (Edit: Apparently there is very little iron in cheese.) By the time I hung up, I had forgotten the rest of the dream. There was a bit where I drank really awesome milk. That’s all I’ve got.
It’s 5:43am. I haven’t slept yet. Screw this, I’m getting a Go Gurt.
What are your empirical findings regarding cheese dreams?!