September 10, 2012

I worked for KM, and she was making all of her employees go to a conference given by a motivational speaker.  We arrived at a campground of sorts in the middle of the night.  It was raining, and we had to climb up a hill that was slippery with wet grass in order to reach the auditorium for the first session.  People kept sliding down the hill past me.

“Keep going, everyone!” encouraged KM.

“I think I’ll just go to my room and rest tonight,” I said to KM.

“If you don’t go, you’re fired,” KM replied.

We were on a school bus with the motivational speaker, driving around Burbank.  The sun was bright as we drove past palm trees and gated movie studios.  We pulled into the parking lot of one of the music studios.  The bus driver pulled a gun out of his pocket and started walking back through the bus.

“Everyone stay seated,” directed KM.

“Forget this!” I said, and I ran to the back of the bus and opened the emergency door.

We were sitting on an airplane. 

“The gun wasn’t loaded,” said KM.

Then, I woke up.

Spetember 9, 2012

No dream that I can remember.

September 8, 2012

I was instructing someone:

Use commas to separate words in a series.

Use a comma to separate two complete thoughts separated by a conjunction.

Use goat cheese and a restaurant chef in your salad for extra flavor.

Then, I woke up.

September 7, 2012

I was working on my tax paperwork.  I was standing in front of a large map of the United States.  Most of the states were white, but Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin were red.  Each red state represented tax information that I was missing.  One of the ways to get the missing information was to go through some sliding glass doors, get weighed, and then go through another set of sliding glass doors.  Unfortunately, you had to weight less than 40 pounds to get the second set of doors to open.

I found a child and sent her through the first set of doors.  She weighed 42 pounds.  I looked on a computer screen to find out what to do next.  The website recommended cutting off the child’s hands and putting cold cream on the wounds to stop the bleeding.

“I have to cut your hands off,” I said to the child.

“Okay,” the child responded.

Her hands were gone and I opened the jar of cold cream to put on the bleeding wrists.  There were gum drops in the cold cream, and the sugar was making the cold cream sticky and grainy. 

“I can’t put the gum drops on her wounds,” I thought to myself.  I dug around the gum drops and got enough cold cream out to dress her wounds.  The cold cream turned pink with blood.

I sent the child through the first set of doors again.  She weighed 41 pounds.  I looked on the website to find out what to do next.  The website recommended cutting off her arms at the elbows.

“I have to get the gum drops out of the cold cream first,” I thought.  I began digging the candy out of the cold cream.

Then, I woke up.

September 6, 2012

No dream that I can remember.

September 5, 2012

All-nighter for work means no dream.

September 4, 2012

I was doing laundry.  There was a large pile on the floor behind the couch.  I was trying to sort through it, separate it, get it folded, and get it put away.  Sisters WC and LC were there helping me.

WC picked up one of my nursing bras, laughing.  The fabric was worn to a thin transluscence, and the padding was starting to shred.  “What happened here?” WC giggled.

I laughed.  “I know,” I said.  “I need to get some new ones.”

LC picked up another well-worn nursing bra. 

I looked a the floor and saw one with a hole worn straight through the fabric.

Then, I woke up.

September 3, 2012

I remember something about a contest, a theme song, and “Murder, She Wrote.”

September 2, 2012

No dream that I can remember.

September 1, 2012

No dream that I can remember.