Ruth Has Better Dreams

I read Ruth's dreams and up to now I have envied their richness.  Mine have seemed just plain stupid.  And repetitious.  Years ago I would have the sort of recurring dream common to college students.  I suddenly realize that this is the day of the final exam and I have not just forgotten to study, I have forgotten all semester long to attend class .  I rush out in a panic, searching for the classroom and hoping I can fake my way through the exam.  I wake up, my heart pounding.

Then as I grew up and had a family, I would dream I had put the baby somewhere and forgot where it was.  How embarrassing! I would be tearing the house apart ("Where did I put it?") when suddenly I would remember where I left the baby--usually, in the car or the shopping cart back at the supermarket.  I wake up, hoping I found it before anybody caught me being so absentminded.

More recently I am lost in an old neighborhood where I used to live--St. Charles, Brooklyn, maybe Amarillo--wandering around trying to remember how to get back to my house or my car.  I get so confused I end up back where I started, and then I wake up exhausted from all that walking.

Then finally, last night I had a well-plotted dream worthy of Ruth.  A lady I knew was having trouble getting rid of her renters.  I said, "It would take a flood to get rid of them."  Voila!  The lady went outside and hooked up her hose and started pouring water in through the front door.  I helped her.  Fortunately the renters were at work and didn't bother us, so we got about a foot of water in the house before a squad of cops in full riot gear showed up waving AK-47's at us.  I was so mad!  It was none of their business!  I yelled at them that it was her house and she could have a flood if she wanted.  A snotty young cop said, "We are here to serve and protect."  I got right in his face and told him, "Oh, yeah?  Well, you're as useless as tits on a bear hog."  Then they all laughed at me.  "It's a BOAR hog, stupid!  You can't even get that right."  Then I woke up, fuming from the embarrassment.

Is this the start of a trend toward new, well-plotted dreams?  Ruth-worthy dreams?