Dreams

There are few things worse or more boring than people who insist on telling you about their dreams. They’ll say: “Last night I dreamt all my teeth fell out. I wonder what that means?”
And you shrug and ask if they’ve upset their dentist lately, slept-walked into a wall, or encountered an over-enthusiastic tooth fairy?
Some will get obsessed and look for answers in books imaginatively entitled: “What your dreams mean” or “The 100 most common dreams” written by people whose own dreams obviously consisted of conning people to buy their books offering speculative and ridiculous solutions to unanswerable questions.
Worse, there is a Dream Research Institute where doctors study and analyse people’s dreams. How did they get that idea past their Careers Officer’s and Medical School without being laughed out of town?
Some people talk about going on their “dream holiday”. Mine would be a fortnight in Australia but I’ve never actually dreamt about it, I’ve thought about it so it’s a “thought holiday.”
In truth, I don’t really travel very far in my dreams. I regularly dream that I’ve boarded buses and trains and, for various unforeseeable reasons – accidents, wrong turns, failing to stop – I never arrive where I’m supposed to but in “the middle of nowhere” – twinned with Kemsley.
I sometimes wonder if this “going nowhere” is a metaphor for my life’s direction?
Some people say that winning the lottery would “make all their dreams come true.”
I hope not because I often dream of being chased down many flights of stairs by random strangers all wishing to harm me. I wouldn’t want that to come true at all – although, on the plus side, maybe I could stop running, turn around and pay them some lottery winnings to chase someone else?
Oh, and you know I said: “There are few things worse or more boring than people who insist on telling you about their dreams?”
Point proved.
Really sorry about that.



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