Dreams

Had the most amazing dreams this morning. Yes, I know there's nothing so boring as someone else telling you their dreams. (Ex husband once shouted at me "Don't tell me your dreams!" which sums up the whole relationship really. But I digress. As always). Anyway, I've had sex with Naveen Andrews, (but he was old and fat, just my luck) turned into a man myself (and back again), been an extra in a Bollywood movie ( I was going to be decapitated, but a monkey and a cat distracted the executioner, so I was saved), turned into another woman, and been at a rockers party where a house was totally trashed. All in full-colour, surround-sound, and way better than most movies. So it's been a busy night.  Pity a person can't film their dreams, I could put it on youTube. It would go viral.
  When I think about it, all of these elements were present in my mind. Tonight is Diwali, the Indian festival of lights, and I'm thinking of going to the celebration here. (Explains the Indian theme). A colleague at work told me that he plans to deconstruct his garden shed this weekend (Explains the house-trashing theme). Had a long 'fussing-session' of cuddles and strokes with Thomas, who can behave a bit naughtyish (naughty little monkey - explains the cat/monkey as saviour). Not sure about the sex change and the decapitation (perhaps I'd like the strength of a man, to do the garden, and perhaps I should think less).  My theory is that dreams are the rubbish bin of the mind; they contain stuff that is being downloaded because the mind doesn't need it anymore. Anyone attempting to interpret dreams is like someone going through the household rubbish; it will tell you something about the person, but not all.
     Strange dreams. I blame the cup of Earl Grey tea I took before bed. Blame it on the bergamot. And just what the hell was in that scented candle I lit?
  
PS. (Possible plot for Halloween movie - unprincipled candle-maker puts psychotropic drugs into his candles, and mass-mayhem breaks out. In a small American town of course. Could call it House of Wacks. Oh, triple pun! I'm smoking, this morning. Oops, there goes another.)