I slept a lot better last night (got up a little after 8), and in the process, had one of the strangest and funniest dreams I've had in a while! I kept going over it so I'd remember it enough to write it down, and I'd better do it now before I lose it.
We were in Washington, D.C., on some kind of tour. We were walking part of the way, but I also had my Mustang there. President Bush was one of our tour guides. Ha ha!
While on the tour, I was trying to get a picture of a polished wood sculpture. As I was trying to get the picture, a group of naked protesters began to protest in front of it and blocked my view. So then I was taking pictures of the naked protesters. I don't know what they were protesting, but one had a sign that said, "Jesus James Bond Satan." Ha!
There was a group of 3 people standing close by, and from their conversation, they were connected with the group of protesters (although these 3 were fully clothed). I said to them, "I was trying to get a picture of the scupture, and your friends spoiled it for me. Thanks a lot! Remember that you affect other people." Wow, I really told them, didn't I?
After the tour, President Bush was giving a little press conference. I was standing in the audience, and at one point, he said, "Hey, did y'all see that Camaro? Wasn't that a hot car? I heard guys walkin' by it sayin' 'Poon! Poon!' Heh heh heh!" He looked at me and smiled, and I shook my head and laughed. We met in the lobby afterwards, and he said, "So did ya like it when I mentioned your car?" I said, "Yes, Mr. President, but it's a Mustang, not a Camaro." He said, "Oh, okay--whatever. Pretty funny, though, huh? Poon!" I said, "Yes, Mr. President."
Ken and I were heading out to the parking lot, and there were still some people milling around. Someone mentioned Barack Obama, and I said, "What? He's here?" Ken said, "Yeah, he's right over there, see?" I started to head over there to shake his hand, and Ken said, "Oops--looks like he's taking off. There he goes." I looked out, and Obama was jogging away with a lone Secret Service guy. I thought about going after him but knew that would be a mistake, so I just felt sad that I didn't get to meet him. I took a couple of steps after him, but Ken said, "Hey HEY hey" and motioned me back over by him. Then we headed to our truck in the parking lot--I don't know what happened to my Mustang.
Does anyone care to interpret that little masterpiece?! Ha ha! My feeling is that not every dream has to mean something. I think dreams are the mind's garbage dump, and sometimes a weird dream like this is nothing more than taking out the mental trash. I have a little dreamcatcher tied on our bed railing over our heads--perhaps it is doing its job and filtering out and capturing my bad dreams, leaving me with silliness like last night's dream. I guess that's not such a bad trade-off!