You dreamed you were in a submarine with Adam Sandler. He was sitting at the helm with a blanket in his lap like an old man navigating darkness in solitude. You asked him how he knew when to turn and which way to go to avoid hitting underwater things, and he pointed to a button on the dash and told you to push it. You pushed the button and heard a ping, but you didn’t see any screens with blips and circles to see where the underwater things were. Adam wasn’t concerned, and you quietly shrugged off his indifference. What choice did you have? He seemed confident enough, though in truth his confidence appeared to be a solemn familiarity with the waters. He appeared to be a sad prisoner of a dark fate, wandering the sands of Davy Jones’ locker. You found a window that looked out onto an underwater forest where people had taken up residence. They had escaped to that haven from the law of the land above, and you envied their freedom for a moment. You watched them become miserable before your eyes as they bickered with no way to break free from each other. They had no new place to flee to. You, on the other hand were free to roam, albeit in the confines of a dark submarine with an old man. That’s when you noticed the song that had been playing over and over in a loop. You asked Adam to turn the music off because it was driving you mad. He reached up to click the knob, and you woke up.

I’m leaving this reminder of your dream here so that you can revisit it later and ponder its meaning. Take your time. It’s likely the result of something you ate before bed, anyway. Everyone likes Supertramp.