Morning of December 18, 2014. Thursday.

Although this dream was extraordinarily vivid, realistic, and very well-rendered and defined, it was a typical housecleaning dream without much going on. Often, in housecleaning dreams, I become semi-lucid and start mentally washing and painting the walls, but not in this case. (I sometimes even reupholster furniture in need of repair, with in-dream telekinesis).

I am vacuuming the floor and especially corners of doorways, where a lot of dirt and dust has accumulated. My family (as they are now) are involved in other activities. I put a lot of attention on a wooden desk that I actually have not seen in many years. For some reason, this particular desk has appeared in far more of my dreams than other furniture even though I am not sure why (I suppose that sounds hilarious to non-dream-workers) and often appears in a location where it would not have been in reality. In this case, it seems to be a variation of our present home.

This desk (which had been sloppily painted brown by someone who had apparently not liked the natural wood appearance and who also utilized the not-so-clever painting of the one small drawer so that it often got jammed for a short time) had single shelves on each side and a narrower area across the middle (under the top part) which I also used as a book holder (the books being a bit heavy and curving the board downward slightly). The most common type of dream this desk is associated with is the "sudden fictional books" feature - fictional books which I somehow remember having had most of my life - and this new dream is no exception.

I get to a point where the sucking is not as strong as it should be and I reason that something is blocking it within the hose (I certainly hope this is not a cellular reference to my arteries). I also take off the normal head (as I sometimes do in reality) to use just the hose itself, as the head is often clumsily large and not very feasible anyway.

From here, I see what is blocking the hose and the items (all paper-based) fall out into an open space. Firstly, it is a partly rolled, quickly sketched vacuum cleaner advertisement from a 1950s magazine showing a smiling woman in the seeming process of vacuuming a red and white vertically striped sofa but holding up the head to about the level of her head, angled out at about 25 degrees to the left. She looks very blissful in her small white lacy apron, holding up the vacuum head, ready to take on the world.

Then, as the dream eventually loses cohesion (but is still very vivid at this point), I see that I had accidentally sucked up a blank sheet music booklet (but which is actually almost full of unpublished written-in musical works) which is actually an A5-sized booklet. I am slightly concerned about dirt having ruined the booklet, but I see that the dirt marks are mostly only on the corners of all the pages. I treasure this book...and remember it well...even though it has never actually existed.