Academic Robbery

I was part of a violent heist in UCD last night (another easily interpreted dream). A line of innocents stood at the window ready to be mown down in cold blood. In order to keep me a good guy, my machine gun had no effect. I complained bitterly, but nothing seemed to be wrong with the bullets when I checked. We - the gang - had a conversation with some of the hostages towards the end of the heist (including an old mentor of mine), then we all split up. As I walked briskly to an exit, a security guard saw the guns under my shirt, but rather than stop me he joked that I should send him a million and waved me on.
This version of UCD was right across the road from the sea. I ended up in a ferry terminal trying to hide among the passengers. I had a conversation with a couple of girls, though I can't remember the subject. When they all started to board I took my leave again walking out the side of the building on to the beach. I think I awoke then.
Shame about those bullets.
Just as well I finish work tomorrow, huh?

Dream On

Sometimes dreams are so literal as to be dull. After my walk home listen to my phone's music last Friday, I awoke to find my hearing had gone muffled. I checked my phone and discovered I'd pushed the volume up to eleven. That my new job begins on Friday and the University won't let me go until Thursday completes the picture. There's more, much more, but it's all too literal to go into. That supreme work of fiction, 'The Interpretation of Dreams', would most definitely not have seen the world in its current form if I had been one of Freud's patients.

Gutting Chickens

This morning I dreamt that I had just landed in Chicago and had a job opportunity gutting chickens. When I rang about the post I believed I had gotten an answering machine; I couldn't hear too well. Later I rang again and discovered I had actually gotten through the first time. The volume on the phone was so low though that I hadn't heard my prospective boss. Now, faintly, she told me to fornicate off. To her credit she did voice a concern that gutting chickens might not be my thing. I was a little disappointed and a little relieved; I don't think gutting chickens would have been my thing.