In my second dream I had discovered the knack of making babies without the necessity of sexual congress. I had a selection of the little blighters in swaddling wraps lined up on the office counter. They were pretty babies, created with purloined genetic material from my work colleagues. I was hoping to find them good homes but had some little frisson of guilt for having got carried away with the project with no thought for eventual outcomes.
So in my dreams I take away life and then I create it. And all done in worry and guilt. What is it they say? Freud would have a field day. I bet he wouldn't. I bet he'd yawn politely and say,
How very humdrum.