Last night I dreamt I had broken into a pharmaceutical warehouse. I was loading up entire suitcases with decades worth of sleeping pills and other good things.

Last night I dreamt that I was walking around a strange mix of New York and Colchester, I was with my youngest son who has special needs and when I turned round he had gone, I remember working out mathematically that in the couple of seconds since he vanished he couldn't be far away, but as the time went on the "max radius of disappearance" was growing rapidly....panic began to set in and I woke up.
I seem to be remembering dreams more now that I don't have to wake up at 05:00 for work.

I hope they get nicer though.

All I remember about last night's dream is I dreamt my airing cupboard was a spare room that never gets used.

It is a dream I have often. However, usually I dream it contains a staircase that leads up to an extra floor of the house. One I've never explored. Last night, it didn't contain a staircase.

Zarniwoop wrote:

Last night I dreamt that I was walking around a strange mix of New York and Colchester, I was with my youngest son who has special needs and when I turned round he had gone, I remember working out mathematically that in the couple of seconds since he vanished he couldn't be far away, but as the time went on the "max radius of disappearance" was growing rapidly....panic began to set in and I woke up.
I seem to be remembering dreams more now that I don't have to wake up at 05:00 for work.

I hope they get nicer though.

That’s a horrible dream I agree. Those kind have you feeling disturbed until after breakfast, even once you’ve realised it was just a dream - which itself is a relief that sometimes doesn’t hit as instantly as it normally does.

Zarniwoop wrote:

Last night I dreamt that I was walking around a strange mix of New York and Colchester, I was with my youngest son who has special needs and when I turned round he had gone, I remember working out mathematically that in the couple of seconds since he vanished he couldn't be far away, but as the time went on the "max radius of disappearance" was growing rapidly....panic began to set in and I woke up.
I seem to be remembering dreams more now that I don't have to wake up at 05:00 for work.

I hope they get nicer though.

Hhrrmph.. a man who retired has just from many years of fine work and has comfortably withdrewn from teh world with a faintly smug air, a dream has he had...



Hrhhm?

The Call of the Wendigo wrote:

All I remember about last night's dream is I dreamt my airing cupboard was a spare room that never gets used.

It is a dream I have often. However, usually I dream it contains a staircase that leads up to an extra floor of the house. One I've never explored. Last night, it didn't contain a staircase.

I used to have that kind of dream often, even down the the cupboard/staircase thing. But not since I adopted my nomadic lifestyle.

Horrible. I have this every so often, in the same format. It’s a sunny day and there’s a large cemetery in between me and where I’m going. I’m always going home. The gates are the kind of grand morbid Victoriana. Maybe a bit gothic, gargoyles etc.

The ground slopes upwards so I can then see all kinds of hideous flowers from recent burials - the kinds that are mounded on top of a fresh grave. All kinds of lurid arrangements. Then I develop an x ray eyesight, allowing me to see into the ground.

So I’m panicking, shuddering with disgust, trying not to vomit, trying to squeeze myself along the wall on the opposite side of the street, as far as possible away from the graveyard.

It’s always sunny and warm in the dream - comfortably warm. So the whole dream is shot through with the feeling of a day spoiled and of being contaminated.

I can’t remember the details, but last night I was tortured in my dreams by a song I hate - ‘Put the Blame on Mame’. It must’ve been referring to showtunes on here. Whatever this dream involved, that kept blasting out.

I’ve gone to bed early, in hope this won’t happen again. It recurred on Thursday night going into Friday (one sequence involved a supermarket, where in every aisle other shoppers were singing and dancing along to it), so I went to bed early last night and was free of any dreams at all.

Built up your Zopiclone tolerance, eh?

No. It took me to a land of dreamless ten hour sleep within an hour of that post.

On the two running nights in question I had none. I never want to see what my minds eye considers a cross section of the British public done up like Rita Hayworth or Angela Lansbury, high kicking and jazz handing and bosom jingling in the aisles, ever again. It’s a terrible song.

A horrible day. In my dream last night, I woke up and opened the bedroom door to find Ted Bundy on the other side of it, looking straight at me. I screamed myself awake. I'm still disturbed all these hours later. His face was so real as he stepped forward.