The Lab Notebook

Awake, Non-lucid, Lucid, [Commentary made while awake]

[This post contains dreams from last night and from Sunday night.]

Night of February 13-14

I'm out and about somewhere in town [Pat and Oscar's? It kind of looked like it]. Along the way, I sing a song: “I Run For Life” by Melissa Etheridge. [In the dream, I sang the lyrics correctly but in the wrong order, moving the first two lines of the last verse to the beginning of the first verse, and yet, I didn't take note of this as being strange.]

I'm at my kitchen table, eating breakfast. My mom is standing in the kitchen. We're carrying on a perfectly normal conversation about whether or not we're going out for coffee this morning. At first it seems like we are, but then my mom suggests that we could have premade bottled coffee here at home instead, so we do. It's cinnamon-flavored, and she prepares it by putting creamer into it.

When I woke up for real, I was slightly surprised to discover that the above paragraph had just been a dream, and that I hadn't actually gotten up yet.

Night of February 15-16

[Dream #1] I'm in a somewhat dark, upstairs room somewhere, with either my mom or my sister. [I can't remember now; the dream quality was low, but I did know that I was dreaming.] We've found a baby doll with long, red hair that sings Christmas carols. I sing along with whatever song it's playing as I walk across the room.

[Dream #2] I'm driving in my car on a freeway where everyone is driving much faster than I usually like to drive. Feeling like I have no choice, I match their pace. I want to get off the freeway soon, and as soon as I see an opening, I take advantage of it and move over into the lanes to my right, so that I can get to the offramp.

[Dreamskip.] I've now gotten off the freeway and parked in a parking structure. Somewhere around here, I realize that I'm dreaming. I walk over to the elevator to take it down to the ground floor. Two other girls are also approaching it, and they get into the elevator with me. One of them starts talking with me, and I introduce myself by name and shake hands with her.

When we're in the elevator, I get a good look at her. She has long, black hair, worn in two braids, and is pretty. I recognize her as my friend Tashi from my freshman year of college. “Tashi?” I say.

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“Don't you remember me from college?”

“No. I know you, though.”

“So you do remember me, but not from the same place that I remember you from.”

She indicates that this is correct. I notice that the two girls are duplicates of each other. Then I woke up.