ODD DREAMS

I've been having really odd dreams recently. I'm afraid I can't remember last night's, and I knew, first thing this morning, that the more I tried to remember it, the further away it would slip. Fresh dreams are like butterflies or the smoke from candles; blink and they're gone.

I do remember sitting bolt upright and saying out loud, "Well that... was weird," whatever it was.

And that is about all I can say about it. Whatever the dream was, it was just weird - not frightening, not a nightmare, not a thing that was out of my control: weird.

I do remember the previous night's though. In that one, I nearly drowned. For some reason, I was driving through a flood and got to a hill that was cascading water into a river. I revved the engine, backed up a bit and then before I had a chance to accelerate uphill, the back wheels thudded over the bank and the car was slipping backwards into the water.

I woke up trying to work out whether it had been best to open the door, unbuckle the seat-belt, or smash a window in the few seconds I had. It was interesting to me that I was unafraid and pragmatic in the dream - resolving the situation into a handful of logical solutions. I had the feeling I'd be neither if it actually happened.

I think I'm going to start writing down the peculiar dreams if they continue. It's wholly possible of course that I've got 'ongoing emotional anxiety', that somehow I have a fear of being 'overwhelmed or out-of-control'. I'd quite like to dream about something nice though - like Jelly Babies and museums, or picnics with friendly dinosaurs or something.

The early mornings are grey and damp at this time of year too. The park was dreary, the rain glistening from my neighbour's shed roof, and the trees looming misty in the distance. It's no time of the day to be waking up feeling weird, is it?

Of course, the other thing I could try to do is to jam-pack my head with more positive things. Whatever is true, noble, admirable, and so on. If my brain is any sort of processor, hopefully it will start pushing all the anxious drowning stuff out as it fills up with more lovely things. The hope would be that all the good stuff doesn't squeeze the anxiety out through my dreams, like soft cheese through a grater.

Speaking of cheese, I've also started wondering whether several slices of pan-fried halloumi on toast, followed by hot-choc-navy-rum is also the most sensible of suppers.