I’ve been the poster child for strange and bizarre dreams, lately. For some reason, and I’m still working out the exact logic behind this, I dreamt that I took not one, but two baths (really deep, use up all the hot water type baths) at my old pre-school teacher’s house. (Not the house she actually lived in. Something out of my imagination with no actual ties to real life.) And then, I found out the toilet wasn’t working. (Just a little too much momentum behind the flushes. Turbo charged toilets. That’s what you get for providing random children with STEM toys, thank you very much.) And I could not fix said toilet.
I was also hopping through a–sorta–cemetery, but a lot of the graves were cracked open. Talking. Mostly to people who were still topside in the dream, but who are dead in real life. I can’t remember the details anymore, but it was fairly peaceful. Probably not a whole lot like my relationship with them was in real life.
None of the concrete worked. It was a little like walking through a scrap yard… But with weeping angels. The kind that just stood there and did nothing. Not the kind that eat you.
I’m not sure if any of it meant anything. Probably not. But then, I don’t usually remember my dreams.
Possibly a bit of vitamin deficiency.