Dreams are a bit like a meal . . . as soon as it’s done, the memory starts to fade. If you have a truly outrageous one, however, even if the precise details of it might leave your memory banks, you’ll still remember the basic facts. And this one — well, this one was odd, and I decided to write down what I could remember before it ends up being a mish-mosh of randomness.
I was on the Titanic — not the actual Titanic, but a ship named the Titanic that was making a voyage from New York to some place in Europe. Rather than an iceberg, though, the ship crashed into a mountain, crushing many of the lifeboats hanging along the side of the huge cruise ship.
It was obvious that the ship was going to wreck, but it was going to take its time in doing so.
So I made sure that Duffy & the kids were secured on a functioning lifeboat and then stayed to help where I could. Only everyone kept saying that the musicians needed help. I figured they needed to be rescued from somewhere . . . only, no, they needed a piano player. So I played piano while everyone ran amock.
I was very frustrated because the band was playing songs in different keys than I was used to until I realized that it was stupid to be playing piano on a ship that was, surely, going to sink in just a little bit. So I just stood up and left.
And then I got lost in some catacomb-like structure beneath deck and wandered around for awhile. Until I met a father of triplets. He had a triple-stroller with young boys (I’d guess 6-9 months old) in it, and he had given them each a stuffed animal. He gave me a very large box and told me to come with him — the box was necessary because he needed a place to put the stuffed animals if/when the kids got tired of them.
I got very frustrated with this father, gave him the finger, and yelled that “figuring out where to put a toy when our lives might be ending is stupid.” He didn’t like me very much after that & stormed off.
And then I woke with the cat licking my forehead.
So, what say you, peanut gallery? Aside from my being crazy, that is — we all know that, already.
I don’t want to be alone on a lifeboat with our kids! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!
Other than that I got nothing.
This dream is lacking only some booze and a workout; then it would have encompassed nearly everything you write about. (Actually, I think the part with the box for the stuffed animals is probably analogous to workout efficiency. So maybe the dream just needs booze.)
Booze, workout, and boobs. Adding those? All bases would then be covered 🙂
This type of dream sounds similar to ones I’ve had where I can’t get somewhere I need to get – desperately – and it’s soooo frustrating.
In my dreams, I’ll be in a car (this is just an example) stuck in a parking structure and I can’t find the exit. And when I do, the ramp will be too steep. And when I get up the ramp, there will be sticky mud. And when I get through the mud, I’ll end up in a tunnel going back down into the parking structure. And repeat.
Usually, at the end of the road, it’s that I can’t get to my kids.
I HATE these dreams but it’s always a relief when I wake up.
And then I wonder if it has anything to do with stress…or guilt…
Dang. I wish it hadn’t been twenty five years since I took Abnormal Psych.
I had a recurring dream of walking to the playground at my elementary school, and getting lost. Now, I grew up, literally two-tenths-of-a-mile from my elementary school. You could see the school from my house. But, I’d dream of trying to walk there & getting lost. Often.