Strange Dreams Happen

Strange dreams happen. I only say this because they happen to me, of course. It is like rain drops hitting the ground of my brain. Plop, plop, they go, splashing around and with no particular pattern. So the dreams that arise pull from strands of thought, or drawers of thought patterns:
- a game of tennis
- a stream of consciousness
- my boyfriend
- me

Last night I dreamt I was walking amongst different tennis courts at a park. David is beside me, and we come across two men arguing about their wives and the relationships they have with each. The men bring me into the conversation and while introducing myself, I discover that not only do they insist their names are female, but they have the same name: Christy. It gets better - the names not only indicate gender, but identity. Somehow I see two men in front of me, but they are the same person, struggling with some serious psychological issues ( or at least the dream causes me to think this, but I'm certain the issue is not about their psychological issues, but more about some stream of consciousness philosophy I've been musing over lately). Where do these ideas come from?

If I'm snowboarding one weekend, I dream of white snowflakes and sailing down the mountain in Switzerland the next day. If I am joining a tennis league (which I am), my sleep-induced narratives include men having an argument on the court...and somehow I draw completely unrelated pieces of myself to these dreams. How strange! I think I might be too stressed these days. Instead of waking up groggily wondering how I have come up with these whimsical tales, and heading off to work with it plaguing my day, It might be time for a vacation...soon.