Last night, I dreamt that I was standing on a stage in a dark theater and I was doing a monologue about how upset I got whenever I saw a musician destroy an expensive guitar. After I finished the monologue, the theater was full of applause.
It’s just a weird fragment of what was undoubtedly a bigger dream but at least it sounds like I got the part!
Last night, I dreamed that I was a teenager in high school again. I was at my house (and, in the dream, it was even the house where we lived when I was in high school) and all of my friends from the drama club were there. We were talking about putting on a play that I had written. Some of them were upset that I was not only the writer and the director but that I had given myself the lead role as well. They kept complaining that I had given all of the good lines to myself.
“Well,” I said, “if you want a good line, write your own damn play.”
Mostly to shut them up, I then turned on the TV. Simon Cowell appeared on the screen, singing the Saved By The Bell theme song. However, this was the extended version of the song, which meant it had verses that we had never heard before.
At one point, Simon sang, “We all know gwam means lame/I’m saved by the bell….”
My friends and I looked at each other and said, “Gwam?”
On the TV, Simon repeated, “We all know gwam means lame/ I’m saved by the bell….”
“This is going in the play,” I said.
And that’s when I woke up.
Last night, I dreamt that I had written two plays. They were both being performed in my living room. A large group of friends and family were gathered on the couch and sitting on the floor, watching as actors delivered lines that I had written. Of course, I had written good roles for myself in both of the plays.
In the dream, the first play was being performed. I was standing in the back of the living room, waiting to make my entrance. As I waited, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t remember anything about the second play. I started to look around the room, searching for a copy of the second play that I could refresh my memory. Not only could I not find one but I got so upset searching that I forgot my lines for the first play. No longer sure of when I was supposed to make my entrance, I decided to go ahead and walk up to the front of living room, where the play was being performed.
The two actors who had been delivering their lines looked shocked to see me and immediately stopped speaking. They stared at me. I stared at them, with no idea what to say.
“Uhmmm….” I said.
One of actors rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” I snapped, “You wouldn’t have anything to say if it wasn’t for me!”
I glanced over my shoulder back at the audience. I saw my high school theater teacher sighing and sadly shaking her head.
And then I woke up.