Trippy Dreaming Again

Of course, I really should have started writing this while it was fresh in my mind, but was otherwise occupied over the weekend... Still, here's what I remember from an awful lot of truly wacky dreaming from the last couple of nights:

A stage production of The Wolfman, with an all-star audience in attendence, was invaded by a real werewolf. Unfortunately, it appeared that the monster makeup was so good, no-one was quite sure which was the real monster, the protagonist or... well, the werewolf. People scattered out of the theatre and bolted for the exits, and I (trying to push back into the building for whatever reason) was passed by the likes of Benicio del Toro (har har - that'd be my subconscious acknowledging the 2010 remake of the classic monster film) and, perhaps most strangely, Dominic Monaghan. What little I remember of the rest of the dream was basically a cat-and-mouse chase through the theatre...

Then, in the same night, there was my subconscious trying to get in on the 'infidelity dream' schtick that has been troubling my girlfriend recently... But it was a complex tale all in itself. It was set largely indoors, but the geography of the house was a combination of my folks' place and my girlfriend's family home. Most of my family were there, in one form or another, and there was one additional inhabitant - a babysitter for the niece. I'm not sure it was ever explained how or why it came to pass, but I seemed to spend a lot of time snogging the babysitter. At one point, I was asked to wash my niece, but what was presented to me as my niece was a tiny baby, easily fitting into the palm of my hand, rather than the rowdy four-year-old from real life. Nevertheless, I started shampooing her bare head (classic dream logic!), only for the real niece to turn up shortly thereafter. I asked what should be done with the tiny baby and was unceremoniously told to flush it down the toilet. I don't remember doing so in the dream, but nor do I recall seeing the baby again. Later on, still in the hybrid house, I happened to look out the window, and saw a group of three or four men, looking suspiciously like tramps, sat on the opposite side of the road, and a couple of finely-dressed women limping toward them. Well, one was limping, the other was dragging herself along the ground using her hands, as if her legs weren't working. Both seemed to have been injured somehow, and I got the impression they were looking for help. One of them looked over at the house, and exclaimed something along the lines of "that's the one with the dolls' house", and both of them - suddenly able to walk perfectly well - strode over to ring the doorbell. By this point, thanks to the wonky geography of the house, I was in the front garden... and had to sneak into the neighbours' house to get back into the house without also allowing the two women in. The rest of it is rather hazy now, but I do recall suddenly realising toward the end that I'd soon be returning home to my flat and - most crucially - my girlfriend... and that there was no way to avoid the terrible scene that would inevitably ensue from my infidelity... other than waking up and returning to a world where the babysitter doesn't exist. So that's what my dream self - cad that he is - chose to do.

Both of those were from Saturday night, and Sunday night's dream was no less all-over-the-place but, weirdly, most of it seems to have been far less memorable... I remembered bits of it before I started writing but, having written up the previous two, I can't seem to recall any of it now. Ah well.

My girlfriend - only recently returned to our fair capital - spent the weekend with me and if I were to say that neither of us slept especially well, the most obviously-drawn conclusion would be incorrect. When last we slept together, the bed was slightly - yet significantly - larger and the mattress possibly harder. I'm beginning to think I need to replace mine, as it's not especially comfortable for me alone these days, let alone with another person. Having restarted her course only a day or two before, my girlfriend was understandably restless, but things improved steadily as the weekend wore on, and we watched movies, TV, did some shopping, did some cooking, and I learned how to play Top Trumps using a set of Doctor Who 45th Anniversary cards.

While it seems her week hasn't got off to the greatest start, mine has had a small positive note - I'll be working another single day, back at the place that brought me in for a single day last month. Likely the same sort of work, so my eyes may be bloodshot and unfocussed by the end of the day, but it'll be fun... and money in the bank.