I was really confused and was about to reply asking if you had un-retired before I realized which thread this was.
Last night had a dream about sleeping in a bed that was outside, across the street from the house where my parents used to live. I was waiting for a bus and having a nap while I waited. It was also snowing or sleeting, and I was thinking that if I was in a tent I could hear the stuff hitting it. I was comfortable under my covers, tho, shielded from the weather.
This one starts out at a work lunch at a restaurant, that seemed to be training for an active shooter situation. We were in a large open dining room. A couple of employees were acting as shooters with water pistols. I was bored. I dropped my antacid tablet and it rolled away under the tables. Damn. Time to leave, so everyone did. I almost forgot a thick book on my chair, which had a bookmark sticking out. The book was full of work I had yet to do, but I wasn't even sure if I was still on that project, or even had time to do it. I put my sunglasses on to leave, but one earpiece was broken off. Ouch. There were a couple of small kiosks of sunglasses for sale at the checkout counter, but I didn't like any of them. Outside, a HUGE truck drove by with a small child riding on the front bumper, laughing happily. A little girl of about 3 or 4 tapped me on the leg then. "May daddy's in the bathroom. Can you watch me until he comes out?" I knelt down to talk to her eye-to-eye. "Well okay, but you really shouldn't just talk to strange men in restaurants!" "I shouldn't?" "No, you should ask the nice lady at the counter for help." The woman at the register smiled and held out her hand, and the little girl went to her. Whew! Everyone else had left to go back to work, so I had no ride. So I started walking. I get this horrible thing in dreams sometimes where I try to walk, but just can't. The leg muscles don't work, physics, changes, I'm in mud, something. So that was happening, and I was clearly late, and work was halfway across town. In fact, it was across a small river with no bridge. I went down the embankment to the shore, and heard many people just going about their business upstream. Some body was talking to a guy named Bob. I yelled "Hey Bob! Fuck you!" Going back to the top of the embankment, there was an office building spread out along the edge. If I could get thru that, there was a way across the river. I finally came to an exterior elevator, and stepped in. I got our a few floors down, got my bearing relative to the elevator, and knew I had to go away from it to cross the river. There was a long corridor paralleling the river, with side hallways with numbered doors. Down the main corridor was a woman with a clipboard staring at me. She knew I didn't belong there, so I tried to avoid her. Suddenly I came to a foyer. The main door opened, and Barbara, an exec admin from work, came in. She was wearing a gray Hijab, which didn't really make sense since she was a tall Irish woman with blazing red hair, fair skin and freckles. But I dove for the door before it could close. A security woman got in my way and slammed the door to keep me in so she could write me up for being in the wrong business. She said "Why just the men today??" I guess I wasn't the only one trying to get thru. I said "Because everyone else left (the restaurant) without us!" She began writing me up and I said "Look, fine me, ban me from ever coming in here again, but PLEASE, just let me out so I can get back to work on time!!"
A fragmented dream that had me walking in some nice open fields, then exploring a historical house decorated beautifully with polished an glossy-stained woods of various tones, and with many secret passages and hidden spiral stairs. I was coming down one such beautiful wooden stair, carrying a revolutionary war musket to blend in with the period. In the room below was a reenactor with another musket. He pointed it at me, playacting a guard. Well the damn things are 5 feet long, so I just pushed the muzzle aside with one hand, stepped inside its reach, put the muzzle of my musket in his belly, smiled and waggled my eyebrows like Groucho. So there!
David Lynch is trying to reach you about working on a movie together, but he's a bit hesitant because your dreams may be a bit too weird for his tastes.
Late for work again, and realized I was just wearing crappy shorts and a t-shirt so, once again, I had to dig through drawers to find the right clothes for work. This happens way too much in my dreams. On the way to work, I stopped at a parking lot at the top of a long hill on the highway (a real place). On the highway, a giant wrecker was towing a pair of massive, linked, semi trailers up the hill. Suddenly the trailers broke loose and rolled back down the hill. I figured that was gonna fuck up the highway, so I better take back roads. I turned to see my car on a flatbed, being driven away! I ran after it yelling "My car! My car!" I eventually got to the garage where my car had been taken. It was still on the flatbed, but it was crushed as if they'd used a claw to pick it up and put it there. I yelled "Who stole my car??" and a big, tall, dopey mechanic said , "Uh... the FBI." A flamboyant man dress like Sylvester McCoy's Dr Who walked by and I once again asked "Who stole my car?" He spun around, apparently happy to help me out. I said "Somebody better either fix this, get me a new car, or give me $18,000!" He told me it was okay, they had a brand new Subaru on order to replace it, they were sorry. The new car was coming from Ohio, so I'd have to wait. I decided I may as well walk home to wait. But suddenly I was on the Aegean coast of Greece in a lovely cliffside villa. Well, I'd better get walking. I walked down stairs carved into the cliff, and through some lovely village scenery, though part of the walk was through piles of tufa gravel, which was impossible to make any progress through. I figured I may as well just walk to either Germany or Paris and hop a flight home from there. There was a couple of young lovers walking along chatting, and I interjected a friendly comment. The woman glared at me, and I put a hand to my heart and said "I deeply apologize for interrupting." She said "Oh, honey, it's okay," and they moved on. Last thing I remember was thinking, "Fuck, to get to Germany from here I'm gonna have to cross the damn Alps!"
Three last night: (1) The house I grew up in was on an acre lot that had a pan-handle that went down to a babbling brook. I really miss that brook! Anyway, in the dream, it's night and I'm down by the brook just enjoying the babbling. I see my mother come home and park in the driveway (the layout was the house by the road, then a downgrade back lawn, a separate garage below the house, and the panhandle to the brook behind the garage). I see her run up to the house, which is lit. I start walking up to the house, and suddenly there are the shadowy forms of two 8-foot-tall monsters by the garage! The shapes suggested a moose and a kodiak bear, standing in my way. Must have scared myself awake at that point. (b) I seem to be at a work function aboard an aircraft carrier, tho I'm basically below decks with a small group in formal business wear. I have no clue what's going on, like I just woke up there. I keep asking what's going on, but no one will respond. I'm trying to put my sneakers on (what IS it with needing to get dressed in some way in my dreams???), but the tongue of the show has torn loose. This really happened to an new pair in real life. An admiral is asking me what I'm doing and I tell him only to ME could this happen twice. One of my former coworkers who died several years ago, and is in charge here, is prompting me to get my act together. I ask HIM what the hell I'm doing here, and he tells me I have to "do it before and after". WHAT? I ask. "Take pictures!" Oh, of course. (I HATED being the company photographer). There's a general bustle and everyone seems to be leaving, but I still can't get my shoe on - in fact I can barely move (half awake/sleep paralysis?) - and I'm STILL not clear on what I'm doing. A young lady in a white dress bumps into me and we both fall to the deck. I ask her "Are YOU responsible for me being blackout drunk and not remembering?" She admitted to it. End program. :/ (last) Then I was home about to take a shower. I'm naked in the bathroom and I hear someone out in the kitchen. I yell who's there? No response. I see a person at the end of the hall, but I can't quite see (I sleep with my contacts on, and they dry out, and I need to put in eyedrops to lubricate them before I can really keep my eyes open and focus). Who's there? I keep yelling, but no one answers. Well, now I'm worried about burglars, so I duck into the bedroom, throw pants on, put in eyedrops, and get my '45. I keep yelling who's there and nobody answers. I creep into the kitchen, and my mother, sister, and wife, all milling around doing kitchen stuff. They're still ignoring me, and I'm yelling why is anybody saying anything???? I' was about to fire an attention shot into the ceiling when I woke up.
At work again . This time the office set up like a school classroom, with those small desk-chairs. I was trying to set up the limited desk space with my PC, monitor, and somewhere to hang the reference sketches to draw from. I was also trying to set up some entertainment in the form of classic 40s movies on a big projector screen in the from of the classroom. There was a conference going on in the back of the room. I cued up an old movie to watch while I work, but the volume was ear-splitting. "Sorry everybody!" My coworker George, at the next desk, was getting pretty annoyed. I fiddled with the movie. My boss came over and loomed. "I'll give you one last chance to get some work done. If not, you're going to get fired."
I was working for an ad agency hired to represent the (previously unknown) daughter of Queen Elizabeth. She look like young Liz during the 1940s. IRL, there is a model kit of the truck Liz drove during her service in the war, which has a scale figure of her in the kit. I was showing the sprue with the figurine to her daughter, saying "wanna see a model of your mum?" Then a bomb went off in the building and an Irwin Allen blast shield slid shut across the office. I had to go find out what was going on, so I excused myself from Her Majesty and went to my office to get my stuff. Except of course I had no shoes on so I had to go back to get them. My secretary looked at me questioningly, and I pointed to my stocking feet and shrugged. She had my shoes at her desk. The office floor was tilted at about 5-10 degrees, and I said that was why - so everything slid down to her desk. Then I was at an outdoor shooting meet, run by some shady character who I didn't trust. I had my hard plastic gun case stacked with everyone else's cases, but I lost track of which one it was. One of the contestants did something heinous (what I don't recall), and fled into the mountains. The shady match runner ordered me and another guy to arm up and go after him. Well, I still couldn't figure out which gun case was mine, and I suddenly panicked to realize I didn't pack any holsters or ammo, so what was I gonna do?? The shady guy supplied those things, and I found my guns. Then I had to sit down with his secretary and fill out some insurance forms and disclaimers. After that, I and the other guy went off on snowmobiles, carrying pump shotguns, to chase the fugitive.
I dreamt I was working back where I worked about 18 years ago. I was talking to my best friend from there, except he looked like Keanu Reeves, and he was helping me hook with a girl that used to work there, she looked like Kate Mara. Neither of them looks like Reeves or Mara.
I had to dig my car out of the snow before I could leave for work. I'd decided to take my old 1965 Corvair, which was parked at the bottom of the driveway, with maybe 4 other cars ahead, all buried in the snow. I figured there was enough room to go around them if I could dig out enough. Once I got the ol' Corvair dug out and managed to find the keys and get it running, I realized I was definitely going to have to movie my 1977 Mustang II out of the way first. I got that dug out and running, but really, I was going to have to move all the cars. I started digging, and discovered the next pile of snow contained two wrecked cars crushed flat and stacked one on top of the other. Where the hell did these come from?? How the fuck was I going to move them?? At that point, a greyhound bus converted to an RV turned into my driveway and blocked the whole thing. I went insane, ripped my shirt off, and ran around in the dream screaming "Snow? Stacked cars? Buses? Snow? Stacked cars?? Buses???
Was at the house we built when I was a kid, cleaning out closets and finding a lot of our old stuff. I found the telescope one of my uncles lent me and used it to watch a construction crew working down the road.
My wife has perfectly mundane dreams like that too - like, ran into a friend from high school and talked over coffee. She shakes her head in wonder at my fantasy opuses.
In my dream I woke up and had Anton Chigurh's hair, and when I tried to comb it out it wouldn't. Somehow my hair had so much hairspray/mousse/gel it felt like plastic.
I often have pretty detailed dreams. This one left me with a clear image of the imaginary location - basically a garage, with a high ceiling and some kind of 'observation tower' in the middle, and a mezzanine level above. There was room for 4 cars, but there was a party going on down there instead, with people from work. Off the garage was a ballroom. The level above featured several video editing workstations. I was standing in the tower, watching the party. I decided I needed a different lens for my camera, and the only way into the house was up the ladder into a ceiling hatch. At first I couldn't manage to crawl up there, because of plywood sheets in the attic flooring in the way. Eventually I got the lens, but it fell apart in my hands. Anyhoo, it's unusual for me to remember the location precisely enough to draw it, and it looked like this:
Yup, I was at work and a supervisor from about 20 years ago was giving me a simple assignment called "Project Robin." It was simply mounting some old B&W photos of a 1930s Curtiss Robin biplane on paper for the stat camera (Yes, I'm stat camera old). I asked if it could be on 8 1/2 x 11 paper or if he wanted it on art board. Paper was fine. But before I trimmed the photo with an X-Acto, I needed to find some cardboard to cut on so I didn't ruin the tablecloth on my drawing board ( ). I looked around the office and found scraps in trash cans, but nothing I liked. So I went next door to the book store to look for cardboard. I was dressed all in black, and rolling around the store while sitting in my desk chair. There was a room off the main sales floor that may have had what I need. While rolling back there, my elbow hit a small switch-box on a table, and the musak stopped. Everyone looked at me and I switched it back on. "Sorry! I don't know why that happens every damn time!" . At some point there was an old Jewish man sitting at some kind of communications station with a speaker/mic in the wall. He had a male nurse attending him, and may have been in a wheelchair. I had to roll my chair between him and the speaker. He was having a shouting argument with whoever was on the other end, yelling that he was in the Holocaust, and he was never going to allow anyone to minimize that suffering if he could help it, and never let it happen again. I rolled through, apologizing profusely for interrupting. I ended up going into that side room to get my cardboard, but I'd ditched the chair. The girls at the counter were whispering "It's him again." "We call him nerd-boy." "What's with the black clothes?" "At least he's walking this time." Again,
My wife and I were running some sort of communal home, and the current guests were five women of various ages. One of them was a scantily-clad 20-something with short brown hair who said her name was "Onesy" ("Won-zee"), because she was an only child. I was sitting back sideways on a couch reading, and she came by and sat across my legs, and said she enjoyed philosophical discussions about statutory rape. I told her she was making me uncomfortable. I've come so far.
Back in May, shortly after getting dumped by my partner of seven years, I had this long meandering dream about hanging out at a ski resort/quiet mountain town. Then at the end the love of my life showed up, and we kissed passionately and I was overcome with my love for her. I could hear myself narrating the dream at that point. "I guess this is what you'll have to deal with now, dreams that remind you of what you just lost. She really made an impact on... Wait, that's not her you're kissing! It's the Chinese girl you broke up with in 2010! Oh, that's fucking hilarious." T'was a very reassuring dream.
I had one where I realized it was a dream too, which is unheard of for me. I was talking with Rosaly, the executive secretary from work, and I realized she looked a whole lot hotter than she ever did. I said "You know what, this is a dream, and you must be my idealized dream version of Rosaly." Weird.
I dreamed I was, for reasons unknown, editing together a Buffy the Vampire Slayer highlights reel on VHS. I was using an old VHS deck, and for a monitor all I had was one of those little Sony Watchman TVs with the 2" screen. I was working outdoors in a park near work, and it started raining. My VHS deck got a large puddle on top, but it kept working. I went back inside so I could work dry. I was in a classroom sort of venue, still editing my video. Xander (the character from Buffy) was there as if he were a real person, and his project was building a table-top-sized maze for Hot Wheels-sized cars. He had some cool blue glowy LED effects. I saw his corners were too sharp, though - square like a mouse maze - and there was no way the cars would be able to turn that sharp a corner without popping in and out of reality. Suddenly some fat kid in the back of the room started throwing small wooden blocks at me. I batted them away with my hand as he threw them, and asked him why he was throwing blocks at me. He didn't say anything, just kept throwing. So I picked up a Hot Wheels sized toy boat from Xander's desk, held it up at the fat kid and yelled "I have a navy!!"
Last night I had DS9 playing on Netflix on my laptop and ended up falling asleep. Drifting in and out, I ended up mixing dreams with elements of what was playing. It was the episode where Kira gets kidnapped by Dukat's Pah-Wraith cult, and the only thing I remember is that Kira was talking to one of Dukat's followers and the person she was talking to had the head of a horse.
