Good dream stories

We don’t talk about dreams at work.

I had one job where people would come in and talk about their fucked up dreams. That was fun.

The people I work with now probably don’t have very fucked up or entertaining dreams.

I was thinking about using the girl dressed as Fozzie the Bear thing in something–but I’d have to lose Sherlock Holmes fetish reference in the novel so it ain’t happening–and it reminded me of one of my finest moments.

I stole it, of course, but I stole it from WKRP in Cincinnati, which gives it some real texture.

One day at work, a few people were talking about their dreams. And I followed them with: yeah, I dreamt I killed my father and crawled into bed my with mother–weird, huh?

Everyone just stared at me. No one knew what to say.

It was freaking great.

I’d love to use it again here; I don’t know if anyone could deal with it (and my boss might say he dreamt he killed his mother and crawled into bed with his father). It’d be superb. Too bad they’re all so boring.

Dreams 09-04-21

Couple remembered dreams. Both of them day specific… so I figured a fast post before I got caught up in writing today’s post for the M1, which kind of makes me feel like having to write The Erasers in one drafting, without any notes.

1. Coworker1 forgets to bring me the cup of coffee she owes me. Apparently, I’m very worried about it.
2. M1 asks me dancing–this afternoon–and I keep thinking I can’t go… because I have something to do. Except, I don’t think I do. And, waking up, remembering it’s on call day… I don’t, so dancing would have been fine to schedule.

The return to caffeine and the general lack of sleep (six hours a night) are cutting into what I can remember from dreams. But I’m thinking, depending on what I read next, it could get shaken up.

Dreams?

I think I had a couple memorable dreams last night.

Well, I definitely had one. We went to the downtown gym (instead of the one closer) for a morning workout, which we’ve never done. Not only was the door locked–they opened late (the nightmare of having to start work at 7… if I’m not at the gym at 5:30, there’s not time). It was a completely different location, in the bottom of a mall, a basement, enormous–except everything had been moved so there was no way to do cardio. All the cardio machines were in the back, in the cafeteria area.

Up front, people were lifting bean bag chairs and moving them. It was really awkward.

Then there was a fight in the cafteria. Like the Nation of Islam members got into it with some other members. Bow ties. Bow ties were the giveaway.

And I never did get to use an elliptical machine–though I did get one this morning at the gym, thanks for the concern.

 

My only other memorable dream, the one I had before waking up an hour early at 4, had to do with renaming my twitter moniker and I can only remember bits of pieces of that one. Dreams about the internet are even weirder than the dreams I have about watching movies or reading books.

Last night’s dreams

• Some kind of a “Real World” episode. Living in this big barn complex next to an estate. Can’t remember how many people were living there, but I had at least two friends. There was some girl, who was a couple years older than my friends and I (I think this was some kind of high school related thing) and I had a thing for her back then so I argued for her to stay.  It seemed like we were going to hook up, which is why I wanted her around. Except then her psycho boyfriend turned up and the whole dream became one of those action movies where the fight destroys the entire set. One of my friends–really wish I could remember who they were–opined she was in on it (his initial problem with her was she seemed nuts). So after the boyfriend was subdued, I went to check on her and it turned out, as she started stabbing me, the friend was right.
• Something at a sea shore. I think I was an adult, but it was me, my dad, this childhood friend of mine (also grown-up) and his father. The two fathers were buying a store. Something stupid. There was a long conversation–I think me and the dude were like 20, still in college–about the GI Joe movie. I guess me and this guy played with GI Joe when we were kids, but I don’t remember that specifically. Then it turned out the two dads were only doing this store thing so they could flirt with some woman. At the end, my mom shows up and my dad’s trying to tell her about what he was doing. So, no idea where that one came from… though the GI Joe stuff was kind of weird, since I’m not sentimental about it in the least. In fact, anyone who would be sentimental about GI-fucking-Joe is laughable to me.
• And for a really weird close–I had my first Second Life related dream. My friend D (in real life) has this douche-bag rich friend. I mean, I guess he’s okay, like he’s not a piece of shit or anything, he’s just this douche-bag. He’s a bag head–and pays for everything just to keep people around him. It’s just lame. But it turned out he owned all this fucking land in Second Life, so I was going to have to buddy up with him to get some real estate there from him. It was really fucking odd.

Dozing

1. imagining a certain someone crawling on top of me in my chair. We’re trying to make room for her legs to go forward around me.
2. In a strange remake of a Fellini or maybe a Dali painting. Warehouse with lengthening and shortening corridors.
3. Kissing someone so hard, so intense, we pass through a wall. My eyes are wondering where we’ve gone.

I freaking love this… It’s basically how I wrote for an entire class in grad school (and is the way the novel got it’s start). Don’t think coworker1 is a fan of me sitting over here catnapping though.

Dream

I had a very strange high school dream.

I must have had e-mail in high school, towards the second half anyway… but this dream was all about me and this girl from high school (who I had a decent-sized thing for) putting together a list of everyone’s email address. But we were making the list on scraps of paper. Not very technologically advanced….

It was very strange.

Dream

Lengthy dream about bonding with coworker1 and her husband. He and I talked about exercise and law enforcement. She and I talked about my mother’s death. Guess I don’t want her to quit.

Dream

Does this even qualify as a dream?
I woke up an hour after I fell asleep, convinced I only had a couple minutes–not five hours–before I had to go to the gym.
Got to a) get off the caffeine and b) start shooting for more sleep.

Dream

Ok… actually did have a dream I remember.

Some of, anyway, couldn’t be the whole thing because it might make my writing a little easier today.

I was working on private post for… someone. It’s M1. There, again no, you don’t get to read it.

And I published it without making it private.

And had to race to make it private.

So, instead of dreaming about M1–or, you know, pinochle for that matter–I’m dreaming about wordpress.com. That’s just great.

Dreams, the lack of

What the hell’s going on with my dreams… I know I had one about pets last night, but nothing else.

Don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep (got 5hrs 15min, getting 6hrs on average lately) or if it’s the increased caffeine consumption (which doesn’t make any sense).

I’ll have to cut back on the latter and increase the former this week… see what happens. An M1 dream is long overdue.

Dream

Well… this is a little depressing–no, I’m not about to nosedive into downer territory.

I finally got to have an M1 dream… no, not that kind. I had that kind I wouldn’t tell everyone about it, just her.

No, I dreamt she made some really positive comments about something I sent her. And given what it was… I suppose the comparison to Dickens doesn’t make any actual sense, but it was one of those half sleep/half waking moments where I wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed the email or what.

Only to discover… yep, I’d dreamed the email.

Such a nice dream, instead of just making a couple notes, I got up in the middle of the night to post it up.

My subconscious is really chooching me on the M1 dreams….

What a boring dream

Dreamnt wife and I had to go a museum two days in a row. Don’t remember what we were there to see.

The first day, on the way back, almost ran off the road because of rain. The second day, slipped and slid because of ice. Wife was yelling at me–on the second day–I woke up a little pissed off at her, actually.

Real exciting dream.

Again, no dreams of the Mysterious One (my subconscious flipping me the bird as it were).

No memorable dreams (again)

No memorable dreams again, which seems kind of weird, two nights in a row. Especially since I got more than enough sleep last night.

I’m blaming it all on Carlos Castaneda. In one of his books, he talks about the controlling of dreams… specifically, how to introduce things into your dreams. It’s a lot of mumbo jumbo, because it’s really, really hard to get his method to work–meditation, et cetera–so it’s impossible to prove, just like most of his stuff (unless you’re taking mescaline, which I’ve never taken, but given my trips… I imagine I’d end up naked in the woods attacking pick-up trucks).

But before I went to bed, it occurred to me I might dream about the mischevious one….

I think my brain basically decided to chooch me. I mean, I hope I did dream about her, because she’s fantastic… just wish I remembered….

No dream post today.

I didn’t get enough sleep to get to a REM cycle.