In dreams

A post on another blog got me thinking about nightmares.

I don’t often have nightmares these days. I did when I was a child, but they were bizarrely abstract and didn’t feature anything that could be thought of as conventionally scary. I wish I could convey to you the sheer terror induced by the wobbling parallel lines, or the friendly little girl made of tinfoil, but believe me, they used to shock me awake on a regular basis.

On the other hand, I occasionally have dreams these days which, on the face of it seem nightmarish, but which don’t really bother me that much. If I do dream about a more traditionally anxiety-inducing situation like being chased, or all my teeth falling out, I respond with more of a shrug and a “Oh, what an inconvenience!”-type of attitude. I know – very British. The most common one I have involves travelling with lots of bags, missing connections and leaving some vital piece of luggage behind and having to go back to find it.

Related – one of my favourite headlines from The Onion’s “Our Dumb Century” book: “Martin Luther King – I had this really weird dream last night”.