Try topping that

Found myself sitting at a lunchtime stress management workshop, where I learnt that vividly remembered dreams signal a lack of restful sleep, cos the brain has to keep on cranking out those narratives for the night.

Oh boy, have I been having cinematic dreamtimes.

One night, I was roaming round my brain’s version of Hawaii (been Forgetting Sarah Marshall a bit too much?). It was amazingly detailed and felt absolutely real.

I climbed a staircase up the side of a white hotel set between an azure ocean and an emerald jungle, and darted along its corridors.

I strode through the somewhat dingy lanes of a small enclave of bars and restaurants, closed and sleepy because it was daytime.

I ended up at a beachfront adorned with coconut trees.

It was totally nuts, and this is the real reason why — every few moments or so, ten-storey-tall, blue, fearsome tsunamis rode in from the horizon and crashed into and past me.

Ever since finding out as a kid that it’s too late to escape from a tsunami once you spot it, far-off tidal waves have recurred in my dreams, just not too often, and certainly not with such intensity. My dream-hairs stood on dream-ends as each one approached, and another appeared soon after.

I think I imaginary-survived most of the waves by hiding in the grooves of walls and holding my breath. Makes sense in dreams.

I woke up after a final crashdown at the beach.. Met a group of familar-feeling people there … but who? Might find out one day. I’ve gone through the déjà vu.

Then another night, I fell asleep in my brain’s version of a lecture theatre, and woke up around 10 p.m to find that I’d been sleeping since 2 p.m. — it was frickin’ horrifying because in the dream, my colleagues were crowding the lecture theatre, which meant I was conflating the scene with my office, and dream-shocked myself into thinking that I’d lazed off a whole day of work by piggishly giving in to a siesta. Panic-inducing, I tell you!

I’d better be in my optimal zone of stress — the room within which one can best excel by balancing actuation with anxiety. This is getting way too close to living in interesting times. Way too close.

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