Some Days Are Sleepy

Some mornings have dreams that suck me into them so deeply that I hate to leave them behind.  On the morning that this dream hit, I kept rolling over and closing my eyes again.

This one started with a new area, much like US Route 14 in Palatine, IL, but all in dark grays and overcast and gothic buildings with much narrower streets. My Dream Companion and I were students and living there and trying to run away from something, so we went into a tavern there, where we met and talked with two priests, one of whom had an amazing resemblance to Karl Malden.
We had to leave, and we were running through the rain with our dogs (did I mention that we each had a big dog?) and then there was a crash in the bedroom as the blind rail fell off, and I woke up. Grrr.

I went back to sleep, and fell into a relatively new part of my dreamlands, with a house much like mine, but somehow larger on the inside, with a huge yard and grass like the family cottage up north, lots of trees and some landscaping I’ve done in previous dreams. Same neighbors too, at least in this dream.

My dream family, a large, extended one that I don’t really have, is part of the aristocracy but very, very poor (due to backstabbing political betrayal) and have been working hard to hide it for decades, much to the frustration of our foes. One sibling is long gone in trade, others are keeping up the facade, and it’s my chore to upkeep the house and make it look livable even though it’s not. 
Family comes by to get things out of storage for a big trip to where we can regain our proper place, (I think it involves space travel but can’t be certain) I think meeting the long-departed sibling was part of the plan, but in any case I was to be left behind again. Then a HUGE storm came, and I had to drag Bruce the Cat (who died years ago, BTW)  out of the backyard into his porch (a much bigger porch than we really have, one with complicated doors) and we were trapped there for some time by the rain and lightning, until one of the people from the packing group comes and helps me back inside, and then Paul’s alarm went off and I woke up again.

Rolled over. Closed eyes.

 Returned to the dream, and I’m finally allowed to to leave the house and go to school, where there is a boring lecture going on, but then questions are asked about complex rank issues and politics, and I get involved in a very catty vicious conversation with several peers, and the professor keeps me after class, where I defend my actions, and she turns out to be an ally.
We make some plans to get me settled and protected, which involves a visit to a strange man with an amazing resemblance to Roy Scheider, who lives in a weird underground place a bit like the original House on the Rock. He seems to be an ex-adventurer of some kind, retired and in seclusion, but my professor convinces him to assist. I demand money and support and am provided with same, along with a shower and bath on the first working bathroom I’ve seen in ages (what with the house falling apart ad all) and that’s where I wake up for the last time and decide a real shower would be lovely since it’s  long past time to get up.

It’s nice when my dreams stay sequential enough to explain in detail, even when explanations never quite capture the feel.