You can't make this stuff up. Well, you can, apparently. Or at least, my unconscious mind can.
So there was a movie shoot. It was on a field the size of a rugby pitch. Bigger, even. Sir Ian McKellen was there, being a wonderful, inspiring gentleman. We were following him, Pied Piper like. I was shy. His costume was kind of Roman gladiator meets sage.
It was complicated, as these dreams often are. But what I can tell you, is that the "set", if that's what it was, was a giant maze - walls at head height. And it was made of chocolate cake. ENTIRELY of chocolate cake. And some parts, like the cement between the bricks were pure hardened chocolate. That's a chocolate cake maze the size of a rugby pitch, people, and I was - well - harvesting it.
I'm not sure about the rest. I'm not sure exactly what Sir Ian was up to, or why. Normally in these dreams I am supposed to be director or scriptwriter or lead role and I am hopelessly unprepared and floundering. In this one, I was just crew. I had my cake and... wrapped it up in tin foil for later.
I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that I was shopping for clothes yesterday and feeling a tad depressed at the size of my new waistline?
