Well, that’s happened in reality (except for the shouting and screaming and physically locking up people ) 
You must be mistaking me for Guga. 
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hey!
I dreamed I was in an apartment that was also my office. In one room there was a football match on a big screen, it was Real Madrid vs. Atlético Madrid and Atlético was leading 5 to 4, so I thought I had to help Real by playing football with a metal bottle cap as the ball, kicking it to the end of the corridor, but I couldn’t understand why the score wasn’t affected, so I kicked it again to the other side of the corridor, but still no goal awarded.
There were also more interesting bits, you know, stuff into which you could read more, like my ex CEO that offered me my old job back - well, its meaning is pretty trivial, isn’t it? - but I don’t remember much.
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That reminds me, I forgot to log my brief (and slightly ‘whatever’) dream where I was in the Oval office at the White House. I was waiting to receive batches of the magazine I edit and they were late. My colleague was there too but he didn’t seem to care that they hadn’t arrived. Then all of sudden they turned up in the billions, and the delivery guys piled them from floor to ceiling. I scrambled onto the desk and grabbed the flag. Then I woke up.
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No president…erm presence?
Nein.
Edit: hey! If I wrote that in English Discourse would spit in my eye.
We learn more and more about Fraulein* Discourse and her strange ways every day…
*deliberate ommison of umlaut for comedic purposes.
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Does that change the meaning? I Googled it but it just autocorrects it 
Not really. It is just gramatically incorrect but lot of non german speaking people say it like that and that´s what makes it funny to my ears.
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Tell me your dreams from 8 years ago
Dear Facebook, it’s fun that you remind me a dream I had in 2010.
“I was in South Africa with some colleagues and we were in the storage room of a big toys store, there were thousands and thousands of vuvuzelas and we were undecided whether to buy one or not, while people around us were playing them. There were plastic vuvuzelas, paper vuvuzelas, vuvuzelas made of styrofoam. In the end we buy them and go around vuvuzeling happily until we enter a hall that was full of Japanese, and an old lady scolded us because it was a library, and there was a team of attorneys working for us to obtain a reimbursement we asked. I don’t remember more, except for the fact that we were sure we bought official vuvuzelas because they produced a B-flat sound instead of the random notes all other vuvuzelas made”.
July 2010. Guess what might have influenced this dream.
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Today’s dream was a new variant of the “house dream”.
I was in a new house, but this time it looked completely different from the one I usually dream about. It developed horizontally, not vertically. My family and I had just entered it for the first time, so the discovery of new rooms wasn’t something “unexpected”, rather the opposite. However, half of the new rooms we found were courtyards. Behind the main gate there was a main courtyard, surrounded by colonnades. On the front, class doors showed the living room. On the right side some doors led to small rooms that we thought we could use as laundry and other stuff, while the left side brought to… another courtyard. This one was however more classy, and there were tables and chairs (on the inside too) dressed for a wedding. We thought it would have been very cool to use them for receptions and parties. The doors further on the left led to a corridor, we entered there and there was a magician.
“Oh, the magician is already there for Ilaria’s party”, my mother said.
“But where are all the other kids?” I say, worried, taking a look at my watch. My wife lists all the invited kids, and all of them (or, the mothers) had written her they would come “a bit late”. Ilaria looks disappointed, but then I find out it’s only because the magician isn’t the same magician that taught her the “spoon that becomes a knife” trick.
I’m now in the living room, that looks way older than what it looked from the outside, but I don’t care. I’m talking with my father about decorations: there are frescoes on the walls, that kinda look like the pictures we had in my childhood apartment, so I say, we could buy frames for the frescoes and it will look like our old home. There’s also a 3D fresco, a part of the wall is shaped so that it looks like rooftops.
My father is sitting on a wooden chair near the fireplace. He’s dangerously near the fire, so I try to tell him, but he doesn’t listen. He keeps on pushing the chair backwards, until he’s so close to the fire that the chair begins to burn. He doesn’t seem to notice, and he’s now sitting on a fire throne. I think he looks extremely cool, but I tell him to watch out because the chair is burning. He finally listens. “I’m lucky I didn’t fart”, he comments after watching the chair burn.
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That’s an amusing thought 
Have you actually seen a trick like this, or is it one that your brain invented for the dream?
It’s a true story. There was a public workshop for kids a couple of weeks ago and we went there, my daughter learned to do a trick where you put a spoon on a napkin, roll it up, then open it again and ta-da, it’s a knife. Well, “learned” is a big word, I learned it, she can’t ever remember how to set the trick up properly.
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“I see you’ve played knifey spoony before!”
I’m amazed at how clearly you remember your dreams. Most of the time mine or too hazy and I only remember a few images or situations that are almost impossible to explain the next day,
Guga’s Dreams: full of comedy gold.
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The thing that bugs me most about my dreams is that they are so visual. I absolutly adore the alien landscapes I dream up and wish I was able to accurately put them to paper, but I´m just not able to. There are places I have never seen in any movie or painting let alone in real life. It´s a shame those fantastic places are always doomed to disappear forever when I wake up.
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Can you build them wit Lego, modelling clay or other materials? Have you thought about to book a drawing course?
It´s not an issue of not being able to craft anything with my hands. It´s an inability to translate that is really hard to describe.
Ah, sorry, you would like to write them down? I thought you would like to draw them. But then maybe that’s the way: Draw them on a paper and then describe the landscape or let someone else describe it for you.
No, I just cannot get the things out of my mind and onto paper. They cannot be described by words so easily and I cannot draw from my memories of my dreams, though I wish I could.
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The best way would be to have an HDMI jack installed in your brain so you could just press record when you go to sleep.
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