Dreams are nice. I have them every day. But it's the goals that provide my family with shelter, health insurance and food. I'm not heartless. I get it. I have long held the "dream" of me as a humble shopkeeper selling my wares on a pretty cobblestone street and greeting patrons by name. Realistically, I know that if I tried to open the store of my dreams it would be an uphill battle. I could do it. But it would be a lot of hard work that, if I was truly lucky, would merely match my current salary and provide my family with none of the fringe benefits they presently enjoy. So I dream that dream sometimes before I fall asleep. Then in the morning I put on my HR suit and go to work for another day of filling job requisitions and firing people who fail the post-accident drug tests.