This is not a weird dream. This is the mind's even more perverse trick, a dream so normal that you believe it utterly and only later realize that what you took to be reality was total BS. I dreamed I looked up the bluegrass musician Sam Bush on Wikipedia and found that he isn't really from Kentucky but rather Chicago and that his birth name was something complicated and Polish. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I found when I remembered the dream a couple of days later that I didn't remember it as a dream but as a false memory. (I did look Sam up today; from Kentucky, named Sam Bush.) I have no idea what my brain is up to with stuff like this, except sending the message: unplug, dude. A damned fine idea!
Last night, I dreamed of "Philadelphia," which is to say that there was nothing Philadelphia-like about the scene nor even any setting that required it to be in any specific city at all, but my brain said it was Philadelphia. I was back in college (now there's a surprise) and had taken an apartment that had an enormous number of uncomfortable high-backed chairs arranged as for an audience to sit in. I inexplicably immediately assumed I was looking at the aftermath of a Super Bowl party. Then an attractive young woman turned up and that was the end of the dream (but presumably also my interest in the chairs).
Then I went to the bank and asked for some money and the teller/branch manager type guy laughed at me, telling me that I had an overdraft. I'm not aware of being worried about money in real life, but one would certainly infer as much. Then again, I keep meaning to change banks in real life. Maybe my brain is just trying to tick me off and give me a nudge in that direction.
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