If only my dreams were like a television series, each night adding to the story. Instead they are a glimpse of a story, leaving me wondering the next day what it all means. The other night I had the most magnificent dream, about buying a new house, a renovators delight close to the city, next to a cemetery, and with a painting as a feature wall. It also included a distressing experience with me having an emu on my back. Maybe it is a very Australian thing to feel weighed down by an emu. The rest of the story was delightfully weird, and really silly. One for my dream journal, which I may re-name the journal of crazy stories from the night.
Wishing you all sweat dreams!