I knew, when I started taking the Tramadol again, and capriciously mixed it with Valerian, I would have some very lucid dreams. If I continue there may well be plenty of blog material (even though it's a bit of a no-no to blog too many dreams).
A couple of nights ago, influenced in no small measure by Little Red Boat's tweats (thanks Anna, you owe me), I dreamed I was moving. Or rather I was packing to move. Not in some vague conceptual way, but actually going through every cupboard and every drawer in my house and ticking the contents off on an inventory on a clipboard. then I got distressed that there weren't enough cardboard boxes for the contents of the knicker drawer*.
But last night's dream was surreal. I attended some sort of Open Day where you move from classroom to classroom or between lecture theatres having a taster in learning how to do things. I attended a class in how to send messages to the interwebnet using only the psychic power of thought (because that is possible in dreams. FACT.).
Also attending that class was Andrea Bocelli, and I sent a message to a private newsgroup-for-friends that he was an okay bloke. I then got back home and read the newsgroup and realised that my friends had written comments like - "I don't think much of Andrea Boceeli, he has a whiny voice and just pretends to be an opera singer", and I ended up sending lots of messages to the newsgroup defending Andrea Bocelli to the hilt, saying that I am now madly in love with him, and he can do nothing wrong, and I now realise that he has the gift of a voice from god, and from now on I will slap anyone who says a word against him.
I think on balance I preferred doing the inventory of my cupboards and drawers!
* I have many knickers, not big knickers
