Good morning, everybody.
I was in an airplane. I believe we had come to a stop, but everybody was still in their seats. I went to the restroom. When I came out, I saw that almost my entire seating section was empty.
I had been sitting either at the back of the plane or near a door in the middle of the plane. The door was now open. There was a grey-black steel platform and staircase leading down from the door. A man in a flight uniform stood at the door.
I asked the man what was going on. He told me that everybody headed to -----, which was where I was headed, had been switched onto another plane. The plane was now getting ready to depart. I told the man that I should be on that plane, too. I asked the man if he could make the plane wait. I believe the man said no.
I yelled at the man, "But you didn't even tell anybody the switch was happening! All I know is we stopped, I went to the bathroom, and then everybody was gone! I could have heard an announcement in the restroom. But nobody made an announcement!"
I had been pulling all my luggage out of the overhead compartment. I believe that my argument had prevailed on the man. Either that or the second plane was a little delayed in moving. But I now had just enough time to get on the plane before it left.
A view of a panel of green and greenish-yellow buttons on a spaceship, like the original Star Trek bridge. The surrounding area was dark.
I was probably an attractive, blonde woman. I had possibly come to a vessel that looked like an old sailing ship. But the vessel was actually a spaceship. I had probably come here to see a man I was attracted to or concerned with in some way.
I went below deck. I hid behind a beam, peering around the beam to see the man working at a control panel, like a control panel off the original Star Trek bridge.
Something about the man also gave me the impression that he had learned quite a bit about every single subject of study he could be exposed to. I believe he had done this for me. But I couldn't understand why. I'd never said I was impressed with a thing like that. Perhaps he'd thought I (or my family?) had needed some kind of assistance that could only be given by someone who had vast amounts of knowledge. But I was certain that I couldn't possibly be in a situation like that, either.
I was out on a sidewalk in the hot, yellow sun, in a busy part of some town. A skinny, kind of pale, white woman with stringy hair was doing something with a clunky, old, brown car. The back, passenger side door of the car was open. The trunk of the car may also have been open.
The woman convinced me to help her with something. She convinced me that I needed to help her, like what she had in mind for me, in terms of helping her, was really going to help me. It was like she was trying to make me feel like she knew what I needed in life, and that she could give it to me by letting me help her. I don't know whether she'd needed to do that. I'd have helped her anyway. I was attracted to her. That was why I was here.
We ended up at the woman's home, I believe, which was a huge, empty space with concrete floors and brick walls. It was mostly empty. But there was a couch somewhere. I had helped the woman and I was now getting ready to leave.
But the woman insisted I stay a bit longer. She asked me to stay and talk with her. She made it seem like if I spoke with her for a while, I would have what I needed, or whatever it was I was looking for in my life. So I stayed a while longer.
At some point, however, I got the feeling that this had all been just a big waste of time. The girl may now have been grey -- as grey and waxy-looking as a crayon! I started to wonder whether the woman hadn't just been having me sit here and talk with her so I couldn't go out and do other things. I believe I had to physically struggle with the woman, who was, I think, trying to pull me back down onto the couch.
I was in a taxi cab, being driven down some road at night. It was probably New Year's Eve. I had missed a flight back to New York from home. But my mom had rescheduled me for another flight. I was now heading to the airport, even though I wasn't sure I'd get there on time.
The car was driving along a quiet mountain road. As we rounded a curve, we passed a gas station. The white fluorescent lights of the service island seemed to have to buzz hard to penetrate the staticky blackness of the night.
I either remembered or imagined a conversation with my mother. She said that the flight from Colorado was leaving at 8:06 PM. The flight would be six hours long. That would mean I'd arrive at 2 AM. But, given the difference in time zones, I'd subtract two hours. So that would mean I'd arrive at midnight. (Of course, that is incorrect -- I'd add rather than subtract two hours.) This made me happy. I'd be able to celebrate New Year's Day in New York, which was apparently something I'd wanted to do.
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #3, August 2, 2012, 12:45 PM, Mountain Standard Time.