Yoga, bleached jeans, standards conference, Ireland, TSB and comments

So I am writing about the dream that I had last night.

For some reason, yoga was involved but I'm not sure how. I think maybe I was watching people doing yoga, I don't think I was actually doing it myself.

There was a pair of jeans that were straight leg and dark in colour and I think that they were quite cheap, not designer or anything. They were lying on the floor somewhere and they were being covered in bleach, front and back. Then I wore the jeans because I thought they looked much better that way. they probably didn't.

The main part of the dream was that I was at a standards conference somewhere and JW from work was there with me. Part of it was placed in Princes Exchange, near my desk that I used to sit at when I worked for JT and the fire curtain was down in front of the windows so it was a little dark. People were stood in the stairwell though chatting about things and they were wearing smart clothes. At some point there was a speaker up at the front who was talking about standards. and giving an experience about standards.

Ireland for some reason were not really participating. Their delegation was huddled in a corner, talking amongst themselves whenever I saw them. There were Chinese whispers and rumours that 'The Irish' were going to have to pull out from the conference for some reason. It'd turned out that 'The Irish' had lost all their money and were going to have to sell their shares in Lloyds TSB in order to stay afloat.

Someone (S.Gore) wrote lots of comments on the standard and there was another couple loitering around.

And there we go - didn't think any of it would make sense. I think it's quite funny that I dreamed about 'The Irish' losing all their money and selling their shares in Lloyds TSB.

More dreams to follow.

Dreaming

I dream a lot. Even when I'm suffering from insomnia, I tend to have weird dreams in those few hours. It's never really bothered me aside from a couple of re-occuring nightmares although I'm still always surprised by how well I remember my dreams. They're often so vivid, complex, drawn out and I remember most details down to the colour of the backlight on the perspex futuristic gearstick plate in the weird Smart Car I was driving round Hyde Park once, or the smell and look of the pub that I was stood in a dark alley next to and I even drew the hill that it sat on.

I've told people about my dreams before and some have been surprised at how long / vivid / ludicrous they are. I started writing them down last year because I wanted to remember them, and I suppose look back through to see if there were any themes in them or points of interest. I stopped doing that as I didn't have time although I did try to write key words on post it notes as soon as I woke up which were enough to jog my memory to enable me to write a full account when I could.

My mum thinks that there's something to my dreams. I'm not so sure. I sometimes think that I should be worried by the things that I dream about; recently I dreamt about being on the top of a double decker open top bus and watching two brothers who were preparing to assassinate a President of an African country. Something went wrong and they instead ended up killing a black lady called Amy who was sitting on the top deck of the bus. I then remember being outside my old flat near Park Lane College but the little park over the road wasn't a park, it was flattened waste land and rubble and Amy's body was lying there and she was dead. Then I was reading on Twitter and heard on the news about a brave woman who'd died but she was pregnant and the baby had been delivered and had survived. The baby belonged to Amy.  I suppose this all sounds quite weird, being around so much death but it doesn't really bother me so much - I don't think there's anything wrong with me or there's a problem. I hope I'm not supposed to worry about it all.

I've decided that it may be easier to electronically record my dreams instead of trying to write them down each time I've had one. I guess they're often not going to make sense and might not make even interesting reading but with my frightful memory, I'm more concerned that I just get them down.

I like that I have my dreams and I love that I remember them. Wouldn't night time be boring without dreams?