My dreams for the last year or two have tended to be all about unstable living arrangements.
I always seem to be looking at new apartments and houses. They come in all shapes and sizes, but they're always rather worn down, bright and interesting, well-used and well-loved, but with things like exposed plumbing or bits of damaged floor you can see through to the room below. Often the dreams involve negotiating space with random room mates, always trying to figure out places to keep my stuff.
Sometimes it'll be in a dreary inner city, other times out in beautiful country houses with roses growing in the back yard. Some of the places have been really appealing! -And a couple of times I'll find I return to the same place in two or more dreams, but eventually I always move on.
Often friends and family members will show up to help me move or even live with me, which is very odd. I don't normally ever see or remember specific people I know in dreams, but lately the interactions have been quite clear and memorable.
Three have been a couple of stand-out narrative moments. -One time I'd moved into a dream version of a college frat house, (apparently the rental market was really tight, and that's all I could find). I moved in late Summer before classes started, but before I was entirely settled, the place began filling up with millennials. Even though I was paying most of the rent on the property, for some reason I didn't have any say about who could live there. At the crux of the dream, the place was full of kids visiting for a kind of low-key party. They were spilling into my bed room; I had no private space. I gave up trying to fight it, and just hoped the party would end soon. I went out into my kitchen to make some breakfast, having to navigate between these milling young people.
On the chopping board, I was the only one not making vegan crap, and this self-righteous SJW girl, taking exception to my white masculinity and my choice of ingredients, asked me in the most searing tone, "Excuse me, but were you even invited?"
Ha ha! I always seem to wake up before I get to deliver my killer line of dialogue or defuse the bomb or solve whatever problem the dream was building toward. It's like, "Yeah, you figured it out, so now there's no longer any need to maintain this simulation. Computer; End Program!"
Oh, and lately Jordan Peterson has been making appearances. -We acknowledge each other in a friendly way, and I'm surprised he's got time to show up in an episode of my stupid life, but we never seem to get a chance to talk. I hope I get a chance to actually engage with him at some point, but I also feel a bit nervous. What does one say to Jordan Peterson?
I DO know this, however...
I've not had to deal with any Comets or UFOs, no storm troopers with dogs or white vans, or other terrifying apocalyptic subject matter.
Just trying to figure out if I get a spare closet for my boxes of books has been stressful enough.