I had a dream the other day. I dreamed I told a friend about a dream I had. And before I new it he was completing my sentences. He had had the exact same dream that I had had. One that involved Disney World and walking in step with each other. So much so, our feet were almost one.
Then I looked at him and asked what he thought it meant, that we had had this dream together, in separate beds on the same night. I he looked intensely into my eyes and said, "Nothing." Then he smiled and I realized he was drunk. I left the place where I had meet him, which I then realized was a bar and walked out into the parking lot. Into a parking lot like the one at my daughter's school. I walked out just in time to see an old van full of teenagers backing into a great big yellow truck. The kind with wheels the size of mountains. I laughed, but then it dawned on me that the truck was mine so I ran out to the van to yell at the boys.
The boys yelled back that a big yellow truck is ugly and stupid and I had to agree. The truck really wasn't mine, it was a friends. I was just driving it that night for reasons that I couldn't remember. They then apologized for smashing the truck and helped me pull out all the dents.
As the got into their van and drove off my friend came out of a church and apologized. He said he was sorry, that he had come from confession and that he didn't mean the dream meant nothing. He just meant that...
And then my dog Gryffindor decided to walk across my back. Not in the dream. In real life. So I woke up and I didn't get to find out what it is he meant. And here it is three days later and I still remember that dream. Perfectly. Odd, but such is life I do suppose.