Definitely British centipede

This is a weird one (for a change, you might say) so stay with me.
I had a dream about a giant centipede, last night.
Now, I should preface this by saying I’m not someone who dreams normally crazy dreams, you know the type, like dreaming of coming to school in your pyjamas or dreaming of having failed your exams the night before passing them. In fact, before my last exam, I dreamt I had an underwater meeting with a man called Jean-Claude, who persuaded me that beards where very useful to breathe underwater, and that I should grow one. (Any dream interpreter out there? No, in fact scratch that, whatever that might mean I’m sure I don’t really want to know).
I never seem to dream about anything related to the day I’ve had, or my life in particular. That’s why yesterday night was so special: the giant centipede dream was a “normal”dream (and yes, I’m fairly conscious that this sentence might not be the most logical sentence ever uttered in the history of humanity).
Because I’ve spent the last 2 days in an epic chase against this fellow here, armed with an old broomstick:


Now Wikipedia might tell you it is called scolopendrae subspinipes, (giant red centipede) and it’s part of the “only species of scolopendrae that was ever recorded as the apparent death of a human” (quoting it from memory). But I called it Charlie, because of chaaaaarlie (The one and only unicorn, if you’re not familiar with it, I call a lot of things Chaaaaarlie just for the pleasure of saying it like this), and discovered it yesterday trotting around my kitchen. I followed it up to under the sink where I had the pleasure to discover that Charlie had an even bigger friend, tucked here like it belonged there – to be honest, this is probably more their house than mine, it is just a giant playground for them, since it contains endless colonies of termites, geckos and spiders, so really less the best possible food storage facility for a giant red centipede. They are about 25 centimeters long, and red, and, as my neighbour put it (because, after searching for “big red centipede nepal” on the Internet to see if those were poisonous, taking pictures and a video of both of them sort of fighting under the sink, which I won’t upload because I believe the level of global grossness (?) in the world is already high enough, I went to my neighbour to inquire as to how they usually handle giant centipede invasions), so as my neighbour said: “not systemically poisonous, but locally painful, and quite agressive”. From which you might deduce two things: one, that my neighbour, like everyone else on this campus, is a doctor, since we’re the only people using the word “systemically”, and second, that if someone from Nepal describes something as “quite agressive” it will probably eat you alive while you’re asleep. So I was very relieved to learn that the local strategy for those nice monsters is basically the same as for any creepy crawly : chase it around with an old broom or a sandal, until it disappears again and you’re not sure whether it is outside, or back under the sink. Which is what I’ve been doing the past two days.

But, as I was saying about a decade ago, judging from the length of this post, I have Charlie and his friend to thank for, because I dreamt of them last night, in the first “life-related-dream” I’ve ever had: in the dream, we were sitting in a sort of Alice in wonderland afternoon tea session, me, some unidentifiable characters and the centipede, and I was expressing my bewilderment that my neighbour had told me it was poisonous the morning before, since now it seemed it was behaving very decently. To which the centipede replied “ah, but why do you assume that drinking tea automatically absolves you from any crime?”
That’s all I remember from the dream. And I must say I think I have a -very British – tendency to consider that anybody who appreciates a nice cuppa must be at least a decent fellow, so that was a very observant dream-centipede. Well, I guess the moral of this (if you can find one) is that if your dreams are to weird to simulate your life, you just have to wait for your life to become weird enough to fit your dreams, and not the contrary!


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