My Polish friend says she has that every day, even when sober!

Actually, I had a dream about this forum.

Only it wasn't an online community as we know it, but a bizarre bit of pavement technology.  We all sat and typed on paving slabs, near a continuous groove/slot in the pavement that joined our positions all together.  We were probablty each about 10 yards apart.

Words magicaly appeared above and below the groove, each of our 'posts' being a two-line affair.  (No one even dared deviate from this convention....)

And I had a purple R3OK members card -  like a credit card but without the hologram or embossed writing.  Sadly, mine was folded in two (lengthways) and I couldn't get it in the groove to activate my account......

Tommo

That probably means you were awake, MiLord....

I suppose that Elgar - who is not, of course, a forum member(!) - might have opined that we all do it all the time, at least in the "We (not, not you, Member Grew!) are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams" sense - but to try to answer the question literally, yes - once - although at least the reasons for it might have been less than unpredictable. Many years ago, I was suffering from a particularly nasty bout of laryngitis and my temperature rose to a most uncomfortably high and almost delirium-inducing level at one point and, during a fitful period of sleep, I had a very vivid dream in which I walked out onto a concert stage towards a piano, acknowledged an audience with more horror than courtesy and then sat at the instrument having not the faintest idea why I was there and even less idea what I was to play (and, for those who are not already aware of this, I am not a pianist or any other kind of performer at all). For some reason, there were some blank sheets of manuscript paper on the piano's music stand and, in the absence of anything better to do, I gave an A to a non-existent orchestra, whereupon that note and some more began to appear on one of those pages so, in desperation, I began as best I could to follow its progress and play at sight what was appearing as it appeared. I got through about a page and a half of this, with the music continuing to "draw" itself just ahead of the notes I was playing, until I suddenly woke. I suppose that my physical state at the time, enhanced by the anxiety-inducing experience that this was, may have been a factor in my ability to remember that music pretty much note for note and, later that day when my temperature had subsided somewhat, I wrote it down and it became the beginning of what was to become a very uneven piano sonata.

I had a similarly horrifying experience with he same piece - only in real life rather than in a dream - a couple of years later when someone who was to include the first movement of that work let me down and, instead of accepting the cancellation of that performance, I had the quite unmeasureable stupidity to try to play it myself instead, which I did from the music rather than from memory; when I walked out onto the real concert platform on that occasion, I was aghast to find that there were quite a few real pianists in the audience. Shortly after this, the manuscript was stolen and I've never seen it since, although I had made a (very bad quality) photocopy of it before I was relieved of possession of the original.

The piece must have been jinxed from the outset, I guess...

Best,

Alistair

Another busy night in your subconscious, Tommo?

Milly, I bet you slept well last night!

Anyway, my dream from last night.  It took place in a house I've dreamt up before, which is something like that flat Frank Lloyd Wright House.

I remember comng out of the house and going down the drive to move my car.  When I got to the parking space, I found two other cars crammed in there, which wasn't surprising, as there seemed to have been a party at the house, with lots of people.  The grey car was only about a centimetre away from mine and the red was scrunched up against that so that their front panels were a bit wonky.  I decided not to bother moving, especially as I'd had a few drinks the night before.

I walked back up the drive, and was chased by a small remote control Peugot 207, which bit at my ankles.  Some kids were controlling it from down the road.

Then I found may way into the canteen of the house (which wasn't there last time I dreamed this place).  I sat at a table which had a large vase of flowers on it.  Martle walked into the canteen dressed as a conductor, with a satchell over his shoulder.  He barged past my table and his satchell went right through the flowers.  So, realising he'd damanged some goods, he picked up he whole bunch and bought them from the canteen.

I then gave the very fat lady who ran the canteen a donation for the upkeep of the place.  Her great chubby hands grabbed me round the face and she kissed me on the lips.

[That was enough to wake me up.]

Tommo

Ian, 

All the more intriguing, h-h!

I had a dream last night but it was similar to Milly's "I wouldn't dare tell anyone what I dreamt last night" dream so I cannot share it!