I remembered my dreams last night unusually well. In the first one, my parents were coming around to help me move house and take some things back to their place. I lived in a place with a big concrete downstairs and a big false wood upstairs like the sunroom at our old house. When my parents turned up my mother had brought their washing machine and drier and a stove and sink in a large enclosing cabinet. I went off the deep end at her for doing this, because I couldn’t see how my stuff was going to fit in their car and trailer if they had to take those appliances back too, and she got very angry and upset and said she didn’t want to be away from their house without them.

In the second dream I was back in Thailand, where I was hanging around with this Thai guy who got me involved in some sort of dance competition at a monastery. The dancing area was crowded with brown laminate tables and the competitors had to interpret instructions shouted by a pretty, overbearing American girl. One of the competitors, who I registered as Thai even though she was white and blonde, complained that my top was too short, although her top was very short too.

This segued into a third sequence where the Thai guy and I went back to my place. My dad was there, doing some work in the downstairs concrete area. He opened the door and I saw he was naked. Then I saw, behind us in the lobby, Hannibal Lecter sitting on a chair with his eyes shut. I panicked and screamed and tried to get inside, Hannibal went after the Thai and, I think, ate his brain off-camera, and then me and a couple of other people were fighting Hannibal. I was bashing a skull against the corner of a table. It wasn’t Hannibal’s skull, but the damage was somehow having an effect on him. Mercifully, then, I woke up, ending the whole silly business.