If it's true that if you can dream it you can do it than I can't do very much at all.
Last night I had your standard "Save a dozen of Brangelina's children from a haunted house" dream and suddenly all the running and saving made me starving and suddenly my fifth-grade gym teacher started tapping me on the shoulder.
"Hey. Hey." She was sort of yell whispering, and she shoved a Fred Meyer bag into my arms. I looked inside and saw it was filled with every variety of Pop Tarts.
"That is so kind of you." I told her. "But I think these have gluten, I can't eat them."
Gluten is I something in wheat, rye, and barley and even in my dreams I have Celiac Disease and can't eat it. I spend most time in REM asking strangers, friends, and celebrities about cross-contamination and reading packaging labels.
"Aren't you hungry though?" she took the bag back. She was actually whispering now.
"Don't worry about me, I actually swallowed a lot of blood earlier so my stomach's full." I told her.
As a side note this blog post covers two of the seven subjects that are too boring to talk about.