Early this morning, I had a vivid dream. I was talking to my niece (whom I had just talked to in real life over lunch with my folks that day), counseling her over relationship problems. I ended by giving her a quick hug (don’t know why; I’ve never hugged any of my relatives), and going up by myself to an apartment.
Along the way, my teeth started falling out painlessly, one by one, and I had to spit them into my hand as they came loose. Soon, I had a whole cupped hand full of fallen teeth. Panicked, I looked in the mirror to see what was left — and they were all still there. Then I woke up, and checked, and all 32 of them (wisdom teeth included) were indeed still there.