I was sitting at the desk once when a woman in an agitated state approached. Before I could finished my rote greeting she cut me off and said:
“Look, where are your books about how to interpret dreams?”
When someone asks a question at the library, you typically follow it up with a question that will narrow the search a bit. It’s quite common to have someone ask a question thinking they’re looking for one thing, and mean something very different.
My followup agitated her more still.
“No, I don’t care about any of that, take me over there right now. Right now!”
While we walked, she talked very rapidly. Among the strange groupings of syllables and mutterings I was able to make out a few specific phrases. Like:
“I’m in a hurry because my dreams are coming soon as soon as I have them and you don’t have any idea what I’ve been dreaming about so we really have to hurry.”
If this sounds like it’s supposed to be a funny story, it isn’t. She was very upset. I couldn’t help but want to ask about her dreams, however. I didn’t, though.
I find that the older I get, the fewer dreams I remember. Those that I do often involve something crawling on me. Something that I can’t get away from. I also have dreams of old memories. They usually don’t have any irrational dreamlike additions to them. They are just recreations of scenes that I lived through once, long ago.
So long ago that they almost feel like someone else’s memories.
If you buy in to dream interpretation and are looking for actual methods, Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams is still requested constantly at the library.