Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I may have had either a girlfriend or a girl who was interested in me, who lived in a big mansion with her family. It was night, and the girl, another person or some other people, and I all came up to the mansion. The girl wanted me to sleep here. But she knew her father wouldn't approve of me. So her idea was that I should sleep on the porch of the mansion.
I stood out on the porch while everybody else walked into the mansion. The porch of the mansion was huge, made of massive stone. The doors of the mansion were also big, made of black iron and glass.
The girl checked with the cook of the mansion to see if anybody else was home at the moment. I could see the cook from the right side of the porch, apparently through a dark hallway that led into the incandescent-lit kitchen. The cook said nobody was home. But she also may have said that she still didn't think it was a good idea for me to sleep at the mansion.
I went to sleep on the mansion porch. I slept near the back, right corner of the porch. I think I was using some kind of blankets as a mattress, and a sleeping bag as a blanket.
I now woke. The morning light was grey. A group of people (in a number of cars, including a limousine and a van?) pulled up to the mansion. The girl's father walked up the steps, closely followed by a retinue of people, possibly associates and bodyguards. The father was a black man who still looked kind of young. His hair was maybe about 5cm long. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and some kind of striped tie (maybe green and yellow?). He wore dark but mirror-like sunglasses.
I jumped out of my bedding. I was trying to think of some excuse for why I was sleeping here. Thankfully, I was wearing a business suit -- brown slacks and jacket, not sure about the rest. I was still trying to think of what to say as I approached the father.
But the father directly asked me something like, "Aren't you the tour guide?"
Shocked that I had been given an excuse directly, I said, "Yes."
The father said something like, "Well, why didn't you come here with us? Are you even ready to give the tour? You're cutting it close with time as it is. The group should be here any minute. They'll be waiting in that room."
I looked over to the left wall of the porch. There were iron-barred glass doors leading into what looked like an opulent hotel lobby. The father had walked away. I walked over into the new room. There were three or four short steps leading down into the area.
The area was much wider than it was deep. There were huge chandeliers with incandescent bulbs. The walls were mostly wood. The carpets were all very nice, with kind of Persian designs, in maybe a tan and blue color scheme. There were little circular seating areas throughout the room, nicely upholstered and padded. A couple of big desks dotted the room. And at the far end of the room was a big, wooden staircase.
There were a lot of people bustling about in the room. But right as I walked down to the bottom of the steps I was confronted by a tightly packed group of well-dressed people. This was, I knew, the tour group the father had spoken about.
The father had supposed I was the group's guide. I knew this wasn't the case. But I suspected the guide would be along soon enough. If I could just stall the group until the guide got here, perhaps I could make a seamless transition, so that nobody would report me to the father as having been either a terrible tour guide or a fraud.
I was worried about my hairstyle. I could "see" my hairstyle. My dark brown hair was heavily gelled (!) and swept into something halfway between a squarish professional cut and a trendy, spiky-mohawk-type cut. I also really needed to urinate. So I wanted to get into the bathroom before I really got focused on performing for this crowd.
But the bathroom doors were right in front of me, along the wall to my left -- and the crowd were all standing in front of the doors. So I did a little bit of performing for the crowd. I didn't even really know what they were here to tour for. So, trying to act like I knew what I was doing, I also threw out some questions and statements that I hoped would lead the crowd to tell me what they were here for.
I still needed to urinate really bad. So I walked through the crowd, probably telling them that we'd start in just a moment, but that I needed to go to the bathroom first. I may have been worried, though, that while I was in the bathroom, the real tour guide would come along. I wouldn't be able to explain myself to him, and somebody might report me to the father. But I may also have mentioned something to the crowd about how the other tour guide, or even the real tour guide?, might be coming along soon.
The crowd seemed to clear some kind of space to the bathroom for me, or else, even though the crowd hadn't cleared a space, I may have seen how I could have gotten to the bathroom. But the bathroom I now had a clear path to was the women's, not the men's. I could see, on the wood door, a shiny, brass plate in the standard shape of a man, on the door of the bathroom I needed to get into. But it seemed like I was going to have a hard time convincing anybody to let me in there.
Dream #2
A view of something like a road in the desert -- flat, with sandy soil and clumps of grass everywhere. My view floated maybe 3 meters above the road and was moving along over the road at the speed of a car.
In the back of my mind I was feeling a story of a girl who was working through the boyfriend options she had on the internet. There were at least three boys the girl was interested in. The first and the third boy had the last name "Cartel." These two boys each had three names. The third boy's first name began with "Ph." The first boy's first name may have been William. I don't remember anything about the second boy's name.
The girl liked the third boy, Ph. The other Cartel boy was a big troublemaker. But Ph was a really nice boy. And the girl really wanted to be with him.
The girl's father did not want to have his daughter involved with anybody in the Cartel family. But the girl was trying to figure out a way of explaining to the father what kind of a good boy Ph was.
The girl's father came driving down the road, in the direction opposite the one in which I was moving, as part of a big group of vehicles. A lot of the vehicles were dark and shiny, like limousines. But there may also have been some motorcycles and other vehicles. They all seemed to be driving so that they made something like a triangle formation.
The girl's father, who was the leader of this group, may possibly have been driving the lead motorcycle. But even if he was in one of the limousines, I could see him, or sense him, as if he were at the very front of this pack.
Somehow it was now like I was this Cartel boy that the girl liked. I felt like I myself should somehow confront the father and let him know about myself. I knew the daughter would also probably still talk to her father. And I knew that the father would listen to the daughter more than to me. I doubted, though, that the father would really listen to either of us. But I figured I might as well try, anyway.
***
UPDATE: A discussion of the images in this dream can be found in this entry in my dreamday journal.
Showing posts with label false awakening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label false awakening. Show all posts
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
ten cent porn; trash files; juice boss; cooking too much?; secretly following; hitting hitcher; blackmail cupcakes
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was on some form of public transportation, maybe a bus, but probably more like a train or a subway. We were moving along above ground. The sky outside may have been deep blue-grey, as if it were late afternoon or early morning and cloudy. I sat in seats that edged their sides against the window. In front of me was a row of seats that edged their backs against the window. There may actually have been another row of seats in front of that first row.
I was looking at my phone. A man now sat in the seats in front of me. He was skinny, with dark skin and dark, wavy hair done up in a square cut. He wore a button-up shirt and nice slacks. He smiled at me and said something like, "You looking at porn?"
I was kind of shocked. I wasn't looking at porn. But I knew I could have been at some other time. In conjunction with my shock, we may have passed over some big bump. I dropped my phone. It scuttered under the row of seats the man was sitting in.
The man didn't seem to notice that I had dropped my phone. I didn't want to act like I'd dropped my phone. I thought if I acted worried, the guy would definitely think I had been looking at porn, and he'd definitely want to look at my phone. I didn't want to ask the guy for help in getting my phone.
I was trying to figure out the best way for getting my phone. I couldn't reach for it from where I sat. It had fallen all the way to the other end of the row. So I had to get up and get it. I stood up and went for it. I knelt in front of the row of seats.
It was a little harder than I'd thought it would be to get to it. The row of seats in front of this row was so close that it was like I had to crawl under this row just to get to the back row. Instead of the man sitting there, there may now have been a Hispanic woman, maybe with one or two little kids.
I noticed that down here the seats were all dusty, too. I could see my phone (except now it may just have been a dime) at the very end of a corner formed by the row of seats and the wall. I crawled back and reached for the phone, rubbing myself up against all the dust of the seats so that I could squeeze my arm in to where the dime was.
I pulled the dime out and looked at it. I may have been sitting straight up, still under the seats, though before I'd had to do a pretty short crawl to get here. Now that I'd actually retrieved my dime, I no longer thought it had been worth all the trouble I'd gone through.
Dream #2
I was at my office. I was looking down into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The drawer was all full of clutter. I may have been panicked, trying to figure out how to take care of all this clutter.
I may have heard my boss' voice from behind me, talking to our office manager, BL. My boss told BL, "You'll see. We can do without him. Anybody can do his job, really."
Dream #3
I was in some place like a break room. It seemed to be at the back of a big grocery store. The break room was kind of narrow. A big, circular table with a fake wood top took up most of the room. I sat at the table. The lights in the room were all off. The only light was the fluorescent light from the store, which came in through the open door of the break room.
My boss walked in. He said something like, "You're still here? We got rid of you, didn't we? We have your replacement and everything."
I may have tried to explain something about my being here, like there were one or two things that still needed to be taken care of. But my boss said something to ridicule everything I said. He said everything in a really pissy yet nonchalant tone that made it clear he was trying to insult me as much as he could in the most tactful way possible, so that he could prove how little he felt he needed me without actually getting himself in trouble for insulting me.
I was so angry that I shouted something back at him. It was pretty violent, but I can't remember what it was. My boss didn't take what I'd said seriously at all. So I began to laugh. I told him if he didn't think I was serious, he could just wait and see. I began to laugh louder and louder.
I laughed so loud that I "woke myself up" -- somewhere. I was walking around in the grocery store, I believe. I could hear two women talking to me from somewhere, maybe from inside my head. I could tell that the two women were Hispanic. Maybe they'd been attractive before. But now they were kind of worn-out and dumpy-looking.
The two women were telling me that when I'd been laughing in my sleep, I'd been laughing so hard that I'd woken them up. They said my laugh had been an evil laugh, and that it made them afraid for my boss. I don't know how they knew I was laughing about my boss.
I myself was really surprised I could have given such an evil laugh. When the women told me that my laugh was evil, I began to worry about myself. Was I okay? Did I need psychological help?
I was now walking along the back wall of the grocery store. There was a door along the back wall. I knew that behind that door was my boss' bedroom. He was asleep in that room. It may have been like a dorm room. My boss may actually have been sharing that room with the guy my boss had hired in my place. My boss and the guy may both have been asleep.
I knew my boss had fallen asleep because he thought there was nothing to worry about from me. I was going to show him. I had a plastic bottle in my hands. Actually, the bottle in my hands kept changing. First it was a small, 600ml plastic bottle. Then it was a big plastic juice bottle, maybe around two liters. There may also have been times when I held more than one bottle in my hands. The bottles may usually have been full of orange juice. I don't think any of them were ever completely full.
I planned to sneak into my boss' bedroom while he was asleep and pound him on the head with these bottles until his skull was smashed and he died. But as I was walking up to the door of the room, two tall, very muscular, bronze-skinned men walked up from behind me. The men wore tight, dark grey or black t-shirts and maybe dull green or grey pants, also kind of tight, maybe made of denim. They had short, wavy brown hair, and square, but kind of babyish, faces.
I had a bad feeling that these guys were trying to break into my boss' bedroom. They seemed to want to steal some of the stuff in the bedroom. Apparently the bedroom was also like a storehouse for some of the most valuable stuff in the store.
I didn't want the store to get stolen from, so I began watching the guys very closely. I decided not to go into the room. The room had a sliding door with a small, inward notch of a handle, painted the same pale-tan as the rest of the door. I didn't want the two men to see how easy it was to get into the room. They'd only be more encouraged to go in.
So either I got friendly with the guys or the guys got friendly with me. We began talking, walking past the room, all of us acting like the room was of no importance to us at all. We turned right and headed down an aisle with rather large shelves, more like shelves in a huge discount warehouse than in a normal grocery store. We were talking about something that I seemed to be engaged in with a kind of childlike enthusiasm.
I got the feeling, as we continued walking, that the guys had decided they were going to protect me. But I didn't know if that was just an act. So I kept all my conversation away from anything having to do with my boss or the bedroom door.
Dream #4
I was in some restaurant. I probably worked there. The restaurant had a long, narrow eating area and a small kitchen, most of which was visible from behind a counter. The restaurant was closed at the moment. But we were apparently preparing, so we could open up for some big party later in the day. The party may have been planned to be a multiple-day party. It may also have been the case that we had just closed down for the day, but that we now had to prepare all of our food for the next day.
Most of the workers seemed to be hanging around in the eating area, toward the back, at a couple of tables. It seemed like they, in general, really didn't have anything to do with the cooking, or maybe even the serving of the food. It seemed like they were all some kind of bosses, more concerned with the administrative aspects of the restaurant. There were one or two cooks behind the counter.
I'm not sure exactly what my job was. But somehow, I was keeping track of the amount of food made. I was also somehow involved in determining how much food needed to be made. At some point I had concluded that we didn't need to make a whole lot. We probably hadn't had much business the day before, and it looked like things weren't going to be any more active the next day. Plus, with the kind of food we made (some kind of fish?), it was much better to cook too little and have the food be fresh and good, than to cook too much and have food go bad.
The cook or cooks took my advice and began cooking only a little bit of food. I think I saw the preparations -- something like sheet pans with circular items, like biscuits, except made of fish, laid out on them.
But now I heard from the front door that the next day of the party was going to be really busy. There would probably be a lot of people here. And, in fact, a large group of people might even have made a reservation specifically for this restaurant.
I was excited. I ran back to the cooks and told them that we now needed to cook a lot of food. We were going to have a full house. Suddenly the cooks had all kinds of big fillets of fish, all being fried and laid out on pans everywhere. There were all kinds of pans of greasy, still-bubbling, fried fish -- everywhere.
I walked away from the cooks' counter and back toward the back of the store, where the other guys sat. I suddenly had a bad feeling that I'd told the cooks to make way too much food. The place would probably not be busy enough to serve all that food. If it were busier than the other days, we'd be kind of okay. But we'd still have too much food. But if it were only as busy as the other days, we'd have a whole lot of food and waste on our hands. We'd have wasted a lot of money.
Dream #5
It was probably a fresh, crisp morning. I was out walking around some place like a small town or a college town or campus, leading a small group of new students in some kind of orientation program. Everybody seemed cheerful and relaxed, even though I think we had gotten to some place where I really didn't know where I was going. We were walking along some grey flagstone path in between some large lawns, at the end of which were large, stately buildings.
A group of guys came walking our way from the other direction. They were all a lot taller and stronger than I. One of the guys, a black man with a shaved head, asked if we knew where we were going. I probably walked up to the guy and mumble-whispered something like, "I don't know where we're going. Do you think you could show us the way -- but without letting on that I don't know what I'm doing?"
We stood before a black iron gate (on my right side) that was hinged on either side with a maybe 2 meter tall stone post. The gate was already partly open. The man opened the gate the rest of the way for us. We all cheerfully walked in. After the gate was a flagstone path that led directly up to one of the big, stately buildings.
The man pointed out a stack of textbooks on the right side of the flagstone path. The top book may have had a yellow cover. The book may have been a mathematics textbook.
The man said, "I think somebody left their textbooks on the path." I knew that this was the way the man was justifying having given me directions for where to go. If he opened the gate and pointed out the books, it would just look like he was pointing out the books, not pointing out the direction I was supposed to take.
I may have replied that the person who owned these books (maybe some female student?) wasn't here, but that I'd make sure to get the books to her. I probably went to pick the books up.
Dream #6
It was morning. I was out with some young, black man on a road, probably in a neighborhood full of fenced parking lots and warehouses. It may have been like I was going to work. It may have been a hot, kind of smoggy morning. The sky was a sour yellow, with the sun just coming up over the horizon.
There were a decent amount of cars in the street, all heading to some warehouse yard to start work. The boy and I seemed to be in a hurry, even though I don't think either of us was too keen to start work.
The boy suddenly had an idea that to get to work quicker we could "hitch a ride." But this hitching a ride didn't necessarily mean getting permission to ride with somebody and getting into their car. The boy told me, "Come on!" He ran up to some van that may have been full of young people, like college students or recent college graduates in something like an intern program. The boy seemed just to jump onto the back or the side of the van and hold on as the van drove away.
I knew that the boy was doing this less because he was in a hurry to get to work and more because he simply didn't feel like walking the rest of the way to work. But I was in a hurry to get to work, and, even though I didn't like the boy's idea, I thought it seemed smart enough that I'd better do it. So I jumped onto a van, possibly not the same van as the boy had jumped onto.
But as I was jumping onto the van I noticed that at one intersection, at which we had just turned left, there was so much traffic that everything had come to a standstill. I was now somehow inside the van. All the young people seemed to make me feel welcome. There may have been a pretty, little, skinny white girl with big, blue-green eyes and her brown hair back in a loose ponytail.
At some point I may have decided that it would be easier just to get out and walk. But suddenly an accident occurred. We'd been moving forward, when we'd hit my friend who'd jumped on the other van. Apparently he'd gotten off the van -- maybe he'd been thrown off of it. But we'd actually driven right over him. It was obvious that he was dead -- crushed. But I didn't want to believe it.
I think I'd gotten out of the van I was in, as if that would reverse my friend's death. I was walking to work. But then at some point I was driving in a car -- a yellow taxi-cab, actually -- with my mom. My mom was driving. I sat in the front passenger seat.
We turned right and drove through an open gate. We were heading along a wide road through a wide lawn. Up ahead was a big, stately building, like a college building. But I looked up ahead and to my left and saw that there were people out here training to be astronauts. Some people may even have been wearing full astronaut outfits for spacewalks.
Suddenly, from nearby, on the left side of the road, there were two people: a boy and a girl. I'm not sure what happened to the boy. He may simply have run off into the field. But the girl ran directly in front of our car. My mom had to step on the breaks really quickly. Even then we barely missed hitting the girl.
The girl was a beautiful, tall, skinny, black girl with long, loosely curly, black hair. She wore a schoolgirl's outfit, with a tartan skirt and overall-blouse and a white button-up shirt. But she was a college student, or at least preparing to become a college student.
The girl looked terribly panicked. She gave me and my mom a look, like she knew she'd forced us to stop, but that she'd had to do it. She quickly ran around to the back passenger side of the car and got in. My mom had the understanding that we needed to just keep driving and get the girl to the same place as we were going.
The girl said, in an ominous tone, "I really feel sorry for you guys." I could tell that the girl knew something bad that was possibly going to happen to me and my mom. It probably had something to do with the young man who got hit by the van. But it was also connected to the girl in some way, like whatever the girl was trying to escape was whatever was coming after me and my mom, too.
I asked the girl, "What do you mean, you feel sorry for us?" I looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. I could tell the girl was too distressed to talk. I asked, "Do you just not want to tell me right now?" The girl pursed her lips in fear and shook her head. She may have been clutching a teddy bear tightly in her arms.
Dream #7
I was in some place like a Starbucks. But it was much larger than a normal Starbucks. The cashier's counter was also set at some strange angle to the rest of the store. The area around the counter was set up in a cluttered kind of way, too, with the glass display cases set at odd angles to the counter. And, behind a door behind the counter was, apparently, a really big food prep area, like this place was actually a restaurant rather than a cafe or a Starbucks.
I had ordered and had been sitting down. But now I'd stood up and come back to the counter. I may have been planning to leave. But the man behind the counter, a tall, kind of muscular black man with a bit of a feminine attitude, had either given me or sold me some extra items, so that now I felt like I should stay at the cafe to finish my items. This probably wasn't so bad, as I probably had stuff I wanted to read or write.
But now the man offered me even more food. This time it was some kind of cupcakes with a thick layer of pale brown chocolate frosting. The cupcakes looked really good. But I knew I probably shouldn't have them. But the man told me to take one.
There was some woman behind me and just to my right now. She may have been with me.
I told the man that I really couldn't take anything else. I'd probably had enough with the first stuff I'd gotten. With the second batch of stuff the guy had given me, I probably had too much. The cupcakes would make it way too much.
I was about to walk away. But now the man brought out a huge tray of some kind of sweet breads that were coated in some kind of sweet syrup. The man told me something like, "Now, you really can't resist these."
I was actually going to try and resist them. But the man actually told me something weird, like, if I didn't take one of these little cakes with me, he was going to tell everybody some dirty,little secret of mine. So I decided to take one of the cakes. They actually did look really, really good. And now I was even tempted to take one of the cupcakes with the chocolate frosting, too. I really did want to know how that frosting tasted.
*****
Update -- you can find info on images I think are related to this dream (and some others) in this entry of my dream-day blog.
Dream #1
I was on some form of public transportation, maybe a bus, but probably more like a train or a subway. We were moving along above ground. The sky outside may have been deep blue-grey, as if it were late afternoon or early morning and cloudy. I sat in seats that edged their sides against the window. In front of me was a row of seats that edged their backs against the window. There may actually have been another row of seats in front of that first row.
I was looking at my phone. A man now sat in the seats in front of me. He was skinny, with dark skin and dark, wavy hair done up in a square cut. He wore a button-up shirt and nice slacks. He smiled at me and said something like, "You looking at porn?"
I was kind of shocked. I wasn't looking at porn. But I knew I could have been at some other time. In conjunction with my shock, we may have passed over some big bump. I dropped my phone. It scuttered under the row of seats the man was sitting in.
The man didn't seem to notice that I had dropped my phone. I didn't want to act like I'd dropped my phone. I thought if I acted worried, the guy would definitely think I had been looking at porn, and he'd definitely want to look at my phone. I didn't want to ask the guy for help in getting my phone.
I was trying to figure out the best way for getting my phone. I couldn't reach for it from where I sat. It had fallen all the way to the other end of the row. So I had to get up and get it. I stood up and went for it. I knelt in front of the row of seats.
It was a little harder than I'd thought it would be to get to it. The row of seats in front of this row was so close that it was like I had to crawl under this row just to get to the back row. Instead of the man sitting there, there may now have been a Hispanic woman, maybe with one or two little kids.
I noticed that down here the seats were all dusty, too. I could see my phone (except now it may just have been a dime) at the very end of a corner formed by the row of seats and the wall. I crawled back and reached for the phone, rubbing myself up against all the dust of the seats so that I could squeeze my arm in to where the dime was.
I pulled the dime out and looked at it. I may have been sitting straight up, still under the seats, though before I'd had to do a pretty short crawl to get here. Now that I'd actually retrieved my dime, I no longer thought it had been worth all the trouble I'd gone through.
Dream #2
I was at my office. I was looking down into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The drawer was all full of clutter. I may have been panicked, trying to figure out how to take care of all this clutter.
I may have heard my boss' voice from behind me, talking to our office manager, BL. My boss told BL, "You'll see. We can do without him. Anybody can do his job, really."
Dream #3
I was in some place like a break room. It seemed to be at the back of a big grocery store. The break room was kind of narrow. A big, circular table with a fake wood top took up most of the room. I sat at the table. The lights in the room were all off. The only light was the fluorescent light from the store, which came in through the open door of the break room.
My boss walked in. He said something like, "You're still here? We got rid of you, didn't we? We have your replacement and everything."
I may have tried to explain something about my being here, like there were one or two things that still needed to be taken care of. But my boss said something to ridicule everything I said. He said everything in a really pissy yet nonchalant tone that made it clear he was trying to insult me as much as he could in the most tactful way possible, so that he could prove how little he felt he needed me without actually getting himself in trouble for insulting me.
I was so angry that I shouted something back at him. It was pretty violent, but I can't remember what it was. My boss didn't take what I'd said seriously at all. So I began to laugh. I told him if he didn't think I was serious, he could just wait and see. I began to laugh louder and louder.
I laughed so loud that I "woke myself up" -- somewhere. I was walking around in the grocery store, I believe. I could hear two women talking to me from somewhere, maybe from inside my head. I could tell that the two women were Hispanic. Maybe they'd been attractive before. But now they were kind of worn-out and dumpy-looking.
The two women were telling me that when I'd been laughing in my sleep, I'd been laughing so hard that I'd woken them up. They said my laugh had been an evil laugh, and that it made them afraid for my boss. I don't know how they knew I was laughing about my boss.
I myself was really surprised I could have given such an evil laugh. When the women told me that my laugh was evil, I began to worry about myself. Was I okay? Did I need psychological help?
I was now walking along the back wall of the grocery store. There was a door along the back wall. I knew that behind that door was my boss' bedroom. He was asleep in that room. It may have been like a dorm room. My boss may actually have been sharing that room with the guy my boss had hired in my place. My boss and the guy may both have been asleep.
I knew my boss had fallen asleep because he thought there was nothing to worry about from me. I was going to show him. I had a plastic bottle in my hands. Actually, the bottle in my hands kept changing. First it was a small, 600ml plastic bottle. Then it was a big plastic juice bottle, maybe around two liters. There may also have been times when I held more than one bottle in my hands. The bottles may usually have been full of orange juice. I don't think any of them were ever completely full.
I planned to sneak into my boss' bedroom while he was asleep and pound him on the head with these bottles until his skull was smashed and he died. But as I was walking up to the door of the room, two tall, very muscular, bronze-skinned men walked up from behind me. The men wore tight, dark grey or black t-shirts and maybe dull green or grey pants, also kind of tight, maybe made of denim. They had short, wavy brown hair, and square, but kind of babyish, faces.
I had a bad feeling that these guys were trying to break into my boss' bedroom. They seemed to want to steal some of the stuff in the bedroom. Apparently the bedroom was also like a storehouse for some of the most valuable stuff in the store.
I didn't want the store to get stolen from, so I began watching the guys very closely. I decided not to go into the room. The room had a sliding door with a small, inward notch of a handle, painted the same pale-tan as the rest of the door. I didn't want the two men to see how easy it was to get into the room. They'd only be more encouraged to go in.
So either I got friendly with the guys or the guys got friendly with me. We began talking, walking past the room, all of us acting like the room was of no importance to us at all. We turned right and headed down an aisle with rather large shelves, more like shelves in a huge discount warehouse than in a normal grocery store. We were talking about something that I seemed to be engaged in with a kind of childlike enthusiasm.
I got the feeling, as we continued walking, that the guys had decided they were going to protect me. But I didn't know if that was just an act. So I kept all my conversation away from anything having to do with my boss or the bedroom door.
Dream #4
I was in some restaurant. I probably worked there. The restaurant had a long, narrow eating area and a small kitchen, most of which was visible from behind a counter. The restaurant was closed at the moment. But we were apparently preparing, so we could open up for some big party later in the day. The party may have been planned to be a multiple-day party. It may also have been the case that we had just closed down for the day, but that we now had to prepare all of our food for the next day.
Most of the workers seemed to be hanging around in the eating area, toward the back, at a couple of tables. It seemed like they, in general, really didn't have anything to do with the cooking, or maybe even the serving of the food. It seemed like they were all some kind of bosses, more concerned with the administrative aspects of the restaurant. There were one or two cooks behind the counter.
I'm not sure exactly what my job was. But somehow, I was keeping track of the amount of food made. I was also somehow involved in determining how much food needed to be made. At some point I had concluded that we didn't need to make a whole lot. We probably hadn't had much business the day before, and it looked like things weren't going to be any more active the next day. Plus, with the kind of food we made (some kind of fish?), it was much better to cook too little and have the food be fresh and good, than to cook too much and have food go bad.
The cook or cooks took my advice and began cooking only a little bit of food. I think I saw the preparations -- something like sheet pans with circular items, like biscuits, except made of fish, laid out on them.
But now I heard from the front door that the next day of the party was going to be really busy. There would probably be a lot of people here. And, in fact, a large group of people might even have made a reservation specifically for this restaurant.
I was excited. I ran back to the cooks and told them that we now needed to cook a lot of food. We were going to have a full house. Suddenly the cooks had all kinds of big fillets of fish, all being fried and laid out on pans everywhere. There were all kinds of pans of greasy, still-bubbling, fried fish -- everywhere.
I walked away from the cooks' counter and back toward the back of the store, where the other guys sat. I suddenly had a bad feeling that I'd told the cooks to make way too much food. The place would probably not be busy enough to serve all that food. If it were busier than the other days, we'd be kind of okay. But we'd still have too much food. But if it were only as busy as the other days, we'd have a whole lot of food and waste on our hands. We'd have wasted a lot of money.
Dream #5
It was probably a fresh, crisp morning. I was out walking around some place like a small town or a college town or campus, leading a small group of new students in some kind of orientation program. Everybody seemed cheerful and relaxed, even though I think we had gotten to some place where I really didn't know where I was going. We were walking along some grey flagstone path in between some large lawns, at the end of which were large, stately buildings.
A group of guys came walking our way from the other direction. They were all a lot taller and stronger than I. One of the guys, a black man with a shaved head, asked if we knew where we were going. I probably walked up to the guy and mumble-whispered something like, "I don't know where we're going. Do you think you could show us the way -- but without letting on that I don't know what I'm doing?"
We stood before a black iron gate (on my right side) that was hinged on either side with a maybe 2 meter tall stone post. The gate was already partly open. The man opened the gate the rest of the way for us. We all cheerfully walked in. After the gate was a flagstone path that led directly up to one of the big, stately buildings.
The man pointed out a stack of textbooks on the right side of the flagstone path. The top book may have had a yellow cover. The book may have been a mathematics textbook.
The man said, "I think somebody left their textbooks on the path." I knew that this was the way the man was justifying having given me directions for where to go. If he opened the gate and pointed out the books, it would just look like he was pointing out the books, not pointing out the direction I was supposed to take.
I may have replied that the person who owned these books (maybe some female student?) wasn't here, but that I'd make sure to get the books to her. I probably went to pick the books up.
Dream #6
It was morning. I was out with some young, black man on a road, probably in a neighborhood full of fenced parking lots and warehouses. It may have been like I was going to work. It may have been a hot, kind of smoggy morning. The sky was a sour yellow, with the sun just coming up over the horizon.
There were a decent amount of cars in the street, all heading to some warehouse yard to start work. The boy and I seemed to be in a hurry, even though I don't think either of us was too keen to start work.
The boy suddenly had an idea that to get to work quicker we could "hitch a ride." But this hitching a ride didn't necessarily mean getting permission to ride with somebody and getting into their car. The boy told me, "Come on!" He ran up to some van that may have been full of young people, like college students or recent college graduates in something like an intern program. The boy seemed just to jump onto the back or the side of the van and hold on as the van drove away.
I knew that the boy was doing this less because he was in a hurry to get to work and more because he simply didn't feel like walking the rest of the way to work. But I was in a hurry to get to work, and, even though I didn't like the boy's idea, I thought it seemed smart enough that I'd better do it. So I jumped onto a van, possibly not the same van as the boy had jumped onto.
But as I was jumping onto the van I noticed that at one intersection, at which we had just turned left, there was so much traffic that everything had come to a standstill. I was now somehow inside the van. All the young people seemed to make me feel welcome. There may have been a pretty, little, skinny white girl with big, blue-green eyes and her brown hair back in a loose ponytail.
At some point I may have decided that it would be easier just to get out and walk. But suddenly an accident occurred. We'd been moving forward, when we'd hit my friend who'd jumped on the other van. Apparently he'd gotten off the van -- maybe he'd been thrown off of it. But we'd actually driven right over him. It was obvious that he was dead -- crushed. But I didn't want to believe it.
I think I'd gotten out of the van I was in, as if that would reverse my friend's death. I was walking to work. But then at some point I was driving in a car -- a yellow taxi-cab, actually -- with my mom. My mom was driving. I sat in the front passenger seat.
We turned right and drove through an open gate. We were heading along a wide road through a wide lawn. Up ahead was a big, stately building, like a college building. But I looked up ahead and to my left and saw that there were people out here training to be astronauts. Some people may even have been wearing full astronaut outfits for spacewalks.
Suddenly, from nearby, on the left side of the road, there were two people: a boy and a girl. I'm not sure what happened to the boy. He may simply have run off into the field. But the girl ran directly in front of our car. My mom had to step on the breaks really quickly. Even then we barely missed hitting the girl.
The girl was a beautiful, tall, skinny, black girl with long, loosely curly, black hair. She wore a schoolgirl's outfit, with a tartan skirt and overall-blouse and a white button-up shirt. But she was a college student, or at least preparing to become a college student.
The girl looked terribly panicked. She gave me and my mom a look, like she knew she'd forced us to stop, but that she'd had to do it. She quickly ran around to the back passenger side of the car and got in. My mom had the understanding that we needed to just keep driving and get the girl to the same place as we were going.
The girl said, in an ominous tone, "I really feel sorry for you guys." I could tell that the girl knew something bad that was possibly going to happen to me and my mom. It probably had something to do with the young man who got hit by the van. But it was also connected to the girl in some way, like whatever the girl was trying to escape was whatever was coming after me and my mom, too.
I asked the girl, "What do you mean, you feel sorry for us?" I looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. I could tell the girl was too distressed to talk. I asked, "Do you just not want to tell me right now?" The girl pursed her lips in fear and shook her head. She may have been clutching a teddy bear tightly in her arms.
Dream #7
I was in some place like a Starbucks. But it was much larger than a normal Starbucks. The cashier's counter was also set at some strange angle to the rest of the store. The area around the counter was set up in a cluttered kind of way, too, with the glass display cases set at odd angles to the counter. And, behind a door behind the counter was, apparently, a really big food prep area, like this place was actually a restaurant rather than a cafe or a Starbucks.
I had ordered and had been sitting down. But now I'd stood up and come back to the counter. I may have been planning to leave. But the man behind the counter, a tall, kind of muscular black man with a bit of a feminine attitude, had either given me or sold me some extra items, so that now I felt like I should stay at the cafe to finish my items. This probably wasn't so bad, as I probably had stuff I wanted to read or write.
But now the man offered me even more food. This time it was some kind of cupcakes with a thick layer of pale brown chocolate frosting. The cupcakes looked really good. But I knew I probably shouldn't have them. But the man told me to take one.
There was some woman behind me and just to my right now. She may have been with me.
I told the man that I really couldn't take anything else. I'd probably had enough with the first stuff I'd gotten. With the second batch of stuff the guy had given me, I probably had too much. The cupcakes would make it way too much.
I was about to walk away. But now the man brought out a huge tray of some kind of sweet breads that were coated in some kind of sweet syrup. The man told me something like, "Now, you really can't resist these."
I was actually going to try and resist them. But the man actually told me something weird, like, if I didn't take one of these little cakes with me, he was going to tell everybody some dirty,little secret of mine. So I decided to take one of the cakes. They actually did look really, really good. And now I was even tempted to take one of the cupcakes with the chocolate frosting, too. I really did want to know how that frosting tasted.
*****
Update -- you can find info on images I think are related to this dream (and some others) in this entry of my dream-day blog.
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