Early this morning I was deep in a dream that my good friend Will Ferrell had purchased a large quantity of small aquariums (aquariae?) that were all defective.
He picked up one of the aquariums (aquariae?), with its small goldfish swimming happily inside, and turned on a switch that was supposed to turn on the filter. The aquarium made a loud sound, kind of like this:
and then it stopped.
"See?" said Will Ferrell. "It's broken."
"I'm sorry to see that," I replied. "But what about the next one?"
Will Ferrell picked up another aquarium. He turned it on, and the loud, disturbing sound repeated, then stopped.
"Huh," I said. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you. Will the fish be okay?"
"I don't know," said Will Ferrell.
At that point, I came into a sort of consciousness. Sometime in the night, my dog had worked his way up from his customary sleeping position on my feet, to the pillow right beside my head. He's a Boston Terrier. He snores, sometimes incredibly loudly.
Apparently if I'm just the right shade of tired, I can incorporate any external noise into my dream world quite seamlessly.