After reading yesterday's Dream Log!, Marc came to me with a very important observation. He said, "You were helping Tony Blair. Why weren't you fighting him? What has happened to your dreams?" You know, I have not thought about this, but Marc is right. It's been a long time since I've had a fighting dream.
In my past, my dreams have featured me fighting vampires, robots, zombies, zombie gargoyles, alien meteorite zombies, SD6, The Others, Cubans (the people, not the cigars), friends who've been turned into vampires (sorry, Jill!), Nazis, and more.
But now? No fighting. I had a dream a few months ago where my brother and I were some kind of agents or cops, but we weren't really fighting anyone. And I didn't have my trademark weapons of a wooden bat or fire poker (Sorry again, Jill!). So, something has changed.
As Marc and I talked--and I later thumbed through my dream journal--I began to realize that my fighting dreams tapered off at about the exact time I began my relationship with My Intended. I'm not gonna get all mushy here, but as Marc said, there may be some coorelation here between my dream struggles and my singleness. Perhaps I was wrestling with some intangible demons that in my dreams became literal, tangible demons. This wouldn't be the first time that my state of singleness seeped into my dreams.
So how do I now explain doing eXtreme Sports with Tony Blair? I'm guessing late-night burritos.