Probably because my brain never shuts down, my dreams are usually very detailed and insanely complicated, like any given episode of Moffat-era Doctor Who. A few nights ago, for example, I found myself in some gypsy woman’s RV taking part in a ritual to say goodbye to an old (but still very much alive) friend. In addition to a piglet featured on Cute Overload, the gypsy woman had a miniature elephant that fluttered about like a moth around a lamp. Adorable yes, but how could I possibly have thought that was realistic? And I did. I was completely convinced that I was in that RV.
And then last night, I accidentally shut down my place of business because I got high (which I’ve never done) and left a clear plastic package of marijuana on the doorstep which led the police to my employer’s secret pot farm, which was evidently the only thing keeping the company afloat thanks to the economy. I blame an old episode of CSI and Attack the Block for that one. I felt horribly guilty, of course, even after I woke up.
The general belief is that dreams are the result of your subconscious processing things that your waking mind can’t make sensible. Generally I feel that I’m not given enough time to get to the conclusion of these dreams, so everything stays unresolved and that’s why I’m secretly so neurotic. I’m pretty sure I can tie destroying my job to my current situation of unemployment, though, a situation that’s sure to haunt my dreams for weeks to come.
Who wants to guess the symbolism behind the tiny flying elephant?