Last night I dreamt there was a dead mouse on the floor, next to a worm. At least, because the mouse was lying on its back, I assumed it was dead. Until it yawned and stretched and got up and bit my foot. It ran downstairs and I followed it and it wasn’t a mouse anymore, but a rat. I thought my dad (the dream was set in my childhood home) would do a dead-hard-dad thing and pick the rat up with his bare hands and put it in the garden, but he opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs and my mum shouted ‘THE PLASTICS AREN’T IN THERE’, as my dad pulled out two laundry baskets – one bright yellow, one blue and went to put them over the rat, but the rat had gone.
Archive for the 'Dreams' category
I dreamt I was downstairs in the kitchen and I’d remotely turned on the music upstairs but told it was too loud so I turned it off but then it came on again so I went upstairs to investigate and all my books and records were on the floor and Rolf Harris had moved into my room and he wouldn’t get out and I was screaming at him ‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?’ and he just stood there and I was going through my stuff looking for hamsters and I couldn’t find them and I said ‘AND YOUR DRAWINGS ARE SHIT’ and I went outside and down the bottom of the garden I found some cuddly toys and there was an albino ferret and on a wall was a black and white rabbit with long floppy ears and I went back to the house to get a bag to put them in but first I had to have an ice cream and there was a man I know there and he said don’t worry about Rolf, he’s tight anyway, he only got one round in in Googies and I said yes, good point.
Then I dreamt I was in a pub and two people there were naked and I had my dressing gown on but everyone else was dressed and I looked at a poster and I said no one told me it was naked night.
I can’t blame Wednesday’s non-dreaming on being drunk after all, because yesterday I went to the pub for lunch and, um, carried on drinking all day. But I did dream. It wasn’t very exciting though. I was outside my parents’ house in Ilford and a police car turned up and a policeman got out and said I had to get in the car. The policeman said I was being arrested and I was going to go to prison for six years. He didn’t say what I’d done though.
Then I was in some kind of hotel or something with a girl and we’d asked for a twin room because we were sharing (must have been a dream, I never share hotel rooms) and it was the tiniest, dirtiest, shabbiest room ever and it had a double bed in it, not twin beds. We looked in the bathroom and it was disgusting. Then I showed another girl to a room and it was massive. The ceilings were about fifty feet tall and there were heavy red velvet curtains covering the windows.
And that was about it really. Not very exciting, I did warn you.
Recently I’ve been posting my dreams on Facebook (what I can remember of them, anyway). These have included dreaming:
- I was in a pub and there was a drink called Orange Broth which was orange and chocolate and had lumps in it.
- I had a load of clothes the same and had to take the duplicates back to the shop and I gave my brother a load of sparkly sports bras.
- I went to live in Australia with Colin (a friend from Manchester) and then we were back in England in a pub with Dunc and Bill and a load of bikers.
- I had Davina McCall’s and Limahl from Kajagoogoo’s passports.
- I was in a cafe with Robbie Williams and he put ‘Angels’ on the jukebox and apologised.
- I was running the London Marathon and it was like an obstacle course with cliffs and scaffolding and walkways with boards missing and I had a break halfway through then forgot to put my Garmin back on.
- I knitted some tea cosies.
- I was in an Italian restaurant and my dinner came with a load of bandage/plaster wrappers in it and then they didn’t even get me a beer.
- there was a field full of cows that looked like poodles and were eating pizza.
- I bought a pair of high-heeled, thigh-high pair of boots in Soho.
- that I saw two young girls fall through some metal railings on a concrete staircase and the girls weren’t moving and so I and another girl cut them up and stuffed some fish with them and put them on a market stall and hid the knife by melting some jelly and filling a glass with water and the jelly then putting the knife in it and wrapping the glass in clingfilm then freezing it and hiding it under a chest of drawers and then I was trying to run away from the children’s mother who turned out not to be their mother anyway then I woke up with the Waterloo Road theme tune in my head.
and my friend Rachel said I should write a kind of reverse dream dictionary, where I publish my dreams and people can tell me what they think they mean. So I thought, actually, that’s not a bad idea – I can put them on my blog. But then Rachel said that now she’s said that I’ll probably have dreamer’s block. And she’s right. I haven’t had a dream I can remember since she suggested it. Last night I was too drunk to dream, I think. At least, that’s what I thought when I woke up but I thought ‘too drunk to dream’ is too good a title not to use.
Anyway, who wants to interpret the above dreams for me?