For a long time after buying my first smart phone, this dream was normal, inevitable even; commonplace. It came in a few different varieties, with me swimming; driving a jeep which began to submerge; in the shower. The scenarios were different, but the big reveal is the same, “oh crap, my phone!” 

I don’t believe in dream reading or any other new age crap that somebody named Willow or Storm tries to feed you about your dreams. Dreams are about memory consolidation—filtering the important from the unimportant and strengthening those connections. Zebra finches dream about their songs. Lab rats dream about running mazes. Even amnesiacs who play Tetris dream about it despite not remember playing it at all, and that’s really weird. [Note: Apologies, the best citation I can find is this NY Times article. The rest are blocked behind a sciencemag.org paywall]

My anxiety was clear: This was my first big purchase of a device that I could hold in one hand, took wherever I went, and had a stupid Unbreakable Bruce Willis weakness to water. It was also my first vanity purchase. I didn’t need a smart phone. I wanted one. My brain decided it was important that I not break this tiny, expensive thing. My computers and drawing tablets are just as, if not more, expensive, but I wouldn’t have my Wacom tablet in my pocket when flood waters suddenly engulf me, nor do I worry about accidentally taking my laptop swimming.

I’m having some conflicting feelings here, because along with not believing that dreams hold some sort of clairvoyant meaning, I also don’t believe anybody wants to hear about my dreams. But every now and then I break down and draw a dream comic. I hope because it’s either hilarious or weird enough to warrant at least a “wtf?”. Whenever I get sick, I usually have awesome fever dreams, which always end up with me discovering some way to re-organize spacetime into a novel interior decoration rubrick, or being tasked with the construction of a castle built out of the air, purely by taking advantage of the essential properties of objects (i.e. “stone-ness” or “door-ness”) to create matter out of nothing. Really Platonic stuff. Hopefully I’ll get around to drawing them.

Never fear though, I won’t inundate you with these sorts of comics though (maybe one or two, max), especially when I seem to have hit a drought of hard science material to draw stuff about. I actually had a better comic planned for today, but decided I wanted to spend more time and color it. I’ll let slip that this is partially because I want to use it as practice for a new super-secret project I’m working on. So bear with the geek-nightmares, the tech commentary, and stories of domestic oddities. Like my dreams, these comics are fueled by real life events, and I have a lot of new things going on. Good things. Happy things.

Sweet dreams.

This post was brought to you by Water (H2O).

Interesting fact: The pun-derived title of this post, “hydrophobia,” is a slight misnomer. What I should have used was “Aquaphobia.” The former is more commonly used to describe Rabies.