I had my usual aquarium dream last night, only with a twist. (Well, first I dreamed I was in some sort of service program and we were going into space for a day, and I hadn't told anyone because I figured they'd be worried about me, and I was frantically packing my things because everyone had already left and I was afraid I was going to be late for launch.) Poking around my room, behind an interesting hand-blown asymmetrical glass vase Phoebe had given me (she hasn't), I found a glass globe. "Oh, it's my fish tank," I thought. And then, with unusual clarity, "There can't be anything in there, I don't think there ever was and I haven't looked at it in months." But I moved the vase and looked, and lo, there were lots of tiny fish, different colors and sizes, zooming around, and plants and algae dotted here and there. The aquarium was apparently quite happy being self-sufficient. Normally my aquarium dreams involve me realizing that I have an aquarium I haven't checked in months, and it's dirty and neglected, but there are always a few fish left alive. I guess my fish are doing better these days.
(I haven't owned an aquarium since...2000, it must be. These dreams must mean something, right?)