The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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10:46am on Saturday, 17th May, 2014:
As I've said before, I almost never remember my dreams. I know I must have them, because everyone has them, but I don't remember them unless: I planned to have one before I went to sleep; the dream woke me up; I was woken up externally and it triggered a dream. However, when I woke up this morning something weird happened: I remembered a fragment of a dream I'd had last night that didn't fit any of those categories. I don't recall that's ever having happened before.
What I remember is two lines of dialogue:
Programmer at PC: I remember when I used to own a necktie.
Me standing in front of him: I own more neckties than I have necks.
The programmer wasn't someone I know, but he did have an American accent (hence his calling it a necktie). I don't remember anything else about the dream. From what I've gathered from other people, this is how dreams usually are. I've not experienced it myself before, though. I was aware that I was dreaming, so maybe that's why I remember it.
My interpretation of this is, as always, that we're going to have seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine.
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