In the first for some reason I was wandering along and saw a sign for a brass band playing and wandered in. Only they were still rehearsing not playing, so I sat and watched for a while and got talking to one of their mums, since it seemed to be a youth band. Mind you they were more singing than playing. And then I started getting teeth falling out. And I put them in my purse to keep them safe and didn't tell anyone and by the time I woke up there were about 6 teeth missing and it was so vivid I had to check I really did still have all my own teeth. Nasty. Definitely a recurring theme in my more nightmareish dreams that one.
The other one seemed to be a bit of an anxiety dream too really, I was trying to write an essay, although it was basically answering a bunch of questions rather than just writing it yourself, reminiscent of French A-level literature papers actually. And the research was reading a bunch of rock magazines with Iron Maiden in, which was odd, and I had to borrow the first one from an old school friend. And I spent the day sitting in coffee shops scribbling. And then I sort of half woke up again and went back to sleep and was dreaming again, but this time I couldn't remember if the whole essay had been a dream or if I still had to write it, and I was trying to find out in kind of roundabout ways, but I still seemed to have all my notes from the previous dream although the magazines had gone. And there was something about wasps and houmous as well which was all a bit strange.
I mean they were both dreams that had the usual dream-world discontinuities in people and place and the usual habit of things being just plain weird, but they both seemed really *real* because they were so vivid, and I seem to have remembered them with more clarity than usual.
Spent 45 mins or so after the alarm went off dosing in bed thinking about stuff like redesigning kitchens and making cakes and how weird said dreams were, and then Tesco arrived early, with a big ego boost as the driver was one we used to see a lot at GR and he remembered Richard and asked how he was doing and things and then more or less went "wow" when I appeared downstairs. I keep forgetting how much different I look, partly I think because my mental image of myself had just never caught up with how fat I was, so I don't seem that much different to me. I'm just me y'know, and it makes me feel weird when people remark on it, and slightly uncomfortable too, cos I feel like I'm getting vain about it. Odd conflicting feelings there.