I’d never had a problem sleeping until about a month ago; then, for no apparent reason insomnia just struck. I began drifting in and out of sleep; I was in a constant state of lucid dreaming. The strange thing about the whole thing is the repetitive nature of my unconscious mind. I play the role of a recently promoted street cop every time; I really seem to be struggling with my new position as detective. I don’t always enter a situation stereotypical of a high-ranking officer. I sometimes find myself sorting through crime scene evidence, or sitting around with the boys talking about a case, but I also iron work shirts and do the weekly grocery shop. Last week I went down to buy some bread from a Vietnamese woman. She asked whether I’d prefer white or multigrain; that’s when it hit me: I wasn’t dreaming at all. Each time I drifted off to sleep I was actually entering an alternate universe. Everyone was. My mate Dave was the local butcher, Kirsten Dunst my secretary, and LL Cool Jay picked bottles out of garbage bins. Every time I was required in the alternate universe I would be stripped from familiar surroundings and placed under the heat of the law. I denounced the role the following morning and I've slept like a baby ever since.