Anatomy of a dream

As an avid dreamer I remember my dreams more often than most people, but that does not mean they are any more prescient, or meaningful than others.

Yesterday I read about iguanas falling out of trees in Florida and my dream carefully changed iguanas, which we don't have and which do not live in snowy parts of the country to bullfrogs. (Which normally do not cavort in the snow either, but do live in this area.)

There was also an elephant in the room, in my dream an actual elephant and since Bestest had mentioned I belonged in his current class on horror my mind carefully picked a basement lab from the last horror movie I saw and voila!

I was attending an English class with an avantgarde professor in a basement lab where we were required to climb onto the back of an elephant after our discussion. The elephant, who was not happy began chasing us (like the bull I saw chasing two women on Facebook yesterday. Evidently an elephant in the room is more likely than a bull in the street for my mind.) Running for the steps we had to dodge two bloated bullfrogs bouncing down the steps towards us.

My sister and I ended up outside, away from the bullfrogs, the angry elephant, and now my mind, unwilling not to spice it up a bit, has added two large German Shepard dogs, It was a snowy day, not the Ezra Keats sort, but more like Dr. Zhivago sort. We decided to walk home rather than go back into all of that.

Half a block away the houses changed from twentieth century bungalows to nineteenth century palatial Russian mansions. About that time we realized we were a very long way from home and wondered why we were walking. Then my dad showed up, a very handsome combination of himself and Omar Sharif in a long wool coat.

We went back to the house with the avantgarde professor and tried to get a ride home, but it still had the bloated bullfrogs and elephant and barking dogs, as well as an old horse now. Evidently even with Dad there some things were not worth dealing with, so we returned to walking.

For a while we frolicked in the snow like children. Sliding down little hillocks and playing, but then decided to go inside one of the fancy homes. My father assumed it was the friend's home we had been visiting, so we were all wandering around looking at things when two very proper, very wealthy, elderly women confronted us, asking why we were in their home.

Had they been less proper I think they might have called the police, but the last thing they wanted was to create a scene, so they were trying to arrange a ride home for us when my phone rang, waking me up.

I leaped up and banged my head on the wall because I forgot I'd moved my bed into the corner of the room and with my eyes closed had no idea how to get out of that bed. Thus ending one of the more bizarre dreams I've had in sometime.

It still involved the long walk home with lots of obstacles, but this time those obstacles were much more lively. And it was in broad daylight.