{swallow your dreams}

I had two dreams last night, both of which I think might have been fairly significant, in a This is Going to Happen in Real Life sort of way. I don't normally think that about dreams, but I think that about these dreams. Definitely.

In the first dream, I was standing in my dimly-lit kitchen, dressed in all black. There was a smoky vignette around the picture, which I soon learned was coming from the stove. I looked down at the counter in front of me, and there were plates and plates and plates of french toast.

I opened the fridge and pulled out three eggs and three bricks of cream cheese, which I threw into the stand mixer with a half a cup of sugar and some caramel sundae sauce. Cheesecake. Of course I was making a cheesecake.

But instead of baking the cheesecake, I spooned the batter onto the open-faced french toasts, topped the sandwiches with more french toast, and grilled them in the frying pan in butter. 

I woke up then, and when I fell back asleep the french grilled cheesecakes were gone, and I was standing in front of the stove frying chicken thighs in BBQ sauce and garlic. In my grad dress.

There was a glass baking dish lined with cooked lasagne noodles on the counter, and I emptied the frying pan into it. There was a small saucepan on the oven with melted butter in it, so I added some flour, some Parmesan, some grated cheddar, pepper, salt, and cream to it and poured that all over the meat, adding more lasagne noodles and grated cheese on top of that. 

I baked my BBQ chicken lasagne until it was a beautiful golden brown, but the buzzer on the stove was also Barclay's alarm clock, so I woke up before I could taste it.

Drat.

I have heard that it's good to document those dreams which feel important though, and now I understand why. These are dreams I don't soon want to forget.

What is it they say? A dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep?