Zeke, the oh so perfect appearing basset hound shown in my first blog posting, woke me up at 5:30 today, barking and scratching to be let into our bedroom. After I opened the door, I was able to fall back asleep - but the dream that then ensued was very vivid!
The dream: For some reason I found myself at a college reunion where I knew no one. I was sitting at a table for four and the pleasant looking professor in tweed next to me intoduced himself and then asked my name. When I told my name was La Vaughn Rynearson, he said, "Rynearson, like the flea soap?" Before I had a chance to respond, an officious gray-haired lady appeared and said the reunion was over and the tables were needed elsewhere. She immediately picked up our table and walked off with it, leaving us to put away our folding chairs. With little or no transition, I found myself leading my long-departed red Honda CRX on a leash up a steep, slippery, snow-covered hill. It took some coaxing, but eventually the car crested the hill. The next thing I knew, I was in a resort hotel and had knocked down a portion of a display of items for sale in the hotel store. I wandered around and quickly found myself lost. (It didn't help that the hotel layout seemed to resemble a spiral snail shell.) I suddenly discovered that I had misplaced my purse and thus my keys to home, car and work. I found a friendly face (one of the correction officers I work with in jail) and she directed me to the lost and found department. After locating my purse, I went about my business only to discover that I had somehow, again, misplaced my purse. This time, I explained the siutation to my supervisor at work, but she didn't seem to think it was a real problem. As soon as I could, I got away and determined I had left my purse in a building that could be seen across a muddy field. I slogged through mud past my ankles that spattered my clothing until I reached my destination. I must have looked like a something the cat dragged in, because the hotel employees didn't seem to want me in their lobby. That's when I woke up very grateful to discover that my purse was safe and sound on my bedroom bureau.
WHAT on earth could this mean (aside from an indication that I have a more than slightly over-active brain)? If you'd care to offer an interpretation, please feel free!