Dreams are bizarre things, aren't they? Everything that seems illogical, irresponsible and - usually - impossible in the waking world suddenly becomes normal. Talking cereal bowls? No problem. Giant shampoo bottles doing Godzilla imitations? Nope. Riding on the back of a giant snake waving a balloons sword and striking down armies of those freaky troll toys that have their hair all on end? Perfectly normal.
But having a dream about dreaming?
I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something.
Now, you may think that, compared to some of the examples up there (all of them genuine dreams, by the way) this simple concept of a "double dream" is fairly normal. But it really wasn't. It was like being stuck in a giant sandwich, somewhere between the dribbly tomato innards and the gherkins.
Allow me to elaborate (the first layer of dream will be in purple, and the second layer in red)
I was wandering down a very long corridor, pushing open doors on either side. Members of my family and boarding house were in the rooms, chasing each other around in bedsheets and shouting to one another in some bizarre gobbledegook language. I kept pushing the doors open one by one, and shouting into the room in a similar sort of language (think Sim speak and you get the general idea). I kept going and going and going until I reached a lopsided door at the end, near a long window. The top of the door was triangular, but the rest was regular door shaped - I had to duck to get in. So in I went, and I lay down on a bed with really high wooden sides, like a sandpit. Then I lay down and went to sleep.
I woke up in my bed at home, which is a bunk bed. I looked up, and all around corners of the room were huge cobwebs. And in the middle of those cobwebs?
Spiders. Enormous, scuttly, multi-legged spiders.
I shot out of the bed like a lightning bolt and ran, seemingly through nothing, and ended up in the utility room. My little brother was standing there with a broom, and I told him (in English this time) that I was looking for the duster. He handed me the duster, only it was a lot longer than the one we have at home, and had dark blue and pink stripes rather than rainbow ones. I then magically appeared back in my room again and pushed the duster along the walls ... and the cobwebs - arachnids and all - magically vanished. I kept scrubbing all over the room, just to make sure they were gone, and I was talking to someone who seemed to be behind me, because I could hear their voice but never see them.
Then, suddenly, I was back in the wonky corridor again. Except this time my roomates were normally clothed, and we were once again talking in our delightfully civilised English. I was sitting next to the head of my boarding house, telling her all about my weird dream. She and I then got involved into a long discussion about spiders ...
And then I woke up.
Okay, so maybe that dream isn't all as strange in words as it was in my head, but let me tell you it put my concept of reality waaaaaay out of wack. When I first sat up and rubbed the grit and freshly-washed fluffy fringe out of my eyes, I wasn't altogether sure where I was. I went down to breakfast in a sort of daze, and nearly asked my housemate if she remembered our conversation from earlier.
Not only that, but I have spent most of this morning scouring the corners of my room for interloping buglets.
Harry Potter connotations anyone?
Psychologically disturbed? Me?