Interpret My Dreams

I took a nap and dreamed I was in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. First I was with some mad scientist who had invented a shrink ray and was sure it was the best way to beat the zombies. You'd think he'd use it to shrink the zombies, but no, he wanted to shrink us so we were small enough to hide in the walls or something. What.

Then I was running away and found some guy who had been successfully hiding by dressing like a scarecrow and standing in a field.

I decided to try and head further inland to see if the zombies hadn't spread that far, although my reasoning in the dream also included the fact that my bag was in my house further inland, but then the next time I thought about it the bag was right in my hand. Dream logic.

But then we came across a police roadblock. They were rounding up people and bringing them inside a dark building. Everyone seemed stoned and no one would talk. Finally we realized they were leading everyone to a furnace so no one exposed to the zombie virus could get through. So I ran away, and I guess I was somehow on the top floor of the building, because I remember running down flights after flight of stairs starting with the 73rd floor.

It's a good thing I woke up then, because the most realistic ending to any story of me in a zombie apocalypse is me dying immediately because my bad knee makes it impossible for me to run, let alone run down stairs.

It's also a good thing this was one of the most plot-coherent dreams I've ever had, because it made it easy to remember even though I fell back asleep in the middle of trying to remember it and ended up dreaming of updating this blog. Then I dreamed an episode of The Walking Dead as if it was filmed in a hotel on a budget of $12 per episode. Seriously, there was a scene of walking past zombies who were so busy eating dead bodies set up like flower gardens that they completely ignored us, and then there was a scene of squabbling over who was supposed to talk to the front desk about the Internet connection.

Last night, I dreamed that my friend's mother asked her to edit a website for her. My friend did so, but her mother complained that my friend hadn't edited to specifications she was never actually told about, yelled at her and grounded her. My friend responded but writing a long and ranty complaint post on LiveJournal.

I have concluded from this that I have read too much Clients from Hell.

I woke up, fell back asleep, and dreamed that I was the pregnant wife of one of the characters from CSI who was being chased down an alley by some kind of petty criminals. I escaped by climbing up a trash pile and climbing down the other side, which had somehow become a mountain. I don't think this was an actual episode of CSI, but I could be wrong, considering how silly the show's gotten in recent years.