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This is an entry for dreams I dreamed early Tuesday morning, posted after midnight, so already Wednesday.
Two events were somewhat connected in my dream last night, the only two that I remember distinctly. They both took place in a large indoor room, a place where lots of people were coming and going. At times it seemed like a shopping complex, at times like a library, at times even like an airport. The architecture and furnishings were not particularly modern, more like 1970s to 1990s interiors, such as one might find in a professional building.
I had acquired a book from a library somehow - it seems to have been in the building, but somewhere other than, perhaps adjoining, the big room in which I stood with my group of people. My wife Wendy may or may not have been with me. I don't have a good sense of what age I was, what period of my life this was supposed to be. But it was a library book, and I was trying hard not to lose it, because the facility was crowded. Suddenly, I saw a man, dark-haired and dressed in shades of black and dark blue, pushing around some sort of large tray or pool-like receptacle, straight from a science fiction movie, including the fact that it was floating a couple of feet off the ground. The receptacle held some sort of blue liquid or crystalline substance, and I wasn't watching where I was going very well, or maybe the man was deliberately causing a problem, because the tray/receptacle/container bumped into me. I looked at the man pushing or pulling it along, and he seemed cross. Somehow he communicated to me that my letting the container strike me started some sort of reaction in the blue chemical, and now it would be ruined, because it was supposed to be protected from such a shock.
I felt a bit put-upon that he would have been moving around this big tray in such a way that now I'm responsible for messing up its contents. And then I realized that somehow the library book was no longer in my hands. This was a big problem, an expense and an inconvenience and an uncomfortable explanation I would need to make. I thought about this some more, and then I looked up. The guy was still pushing around the large container and its blue chemical, and he didn't seem additionally upset, or like he was trying to evacuate, or warn anybody, or anything like that. I began to wonder if he had not simply lied to me about my contact with the container causing any sort of problem at all. Then I woke up.
Two events were somewhat connected in my dream last night, the only two that I remember distinctly. They both took place in a large indoor room, a place where lots of people were coming and going. At times it seemed like a shopping complex, at times like a library, at times even like an airport. The architecture and furnishings were not particularly modern, more like 1970s to 1990s interiors, such as one might find in a professional building.
I had acquired a book from a library somehow - it seems to have been in the building, but somewhere other than, perhaps adjoining, the big room in which I stood with my group of people. My wife Wendy may or may not have been with me. I don't have a good sense of what age I was, what period of my life this was supposed to be. But it was a library book, and I was trying hard not to lose it, because the facility was crowded. Suddenly, I saw a man, dark-haired and dressed in shades of black and dark blue, pushing around some sort of large tray or pool-like receptacle, straight from a science fiction movie, including the fact that it was floating a couple of feet off the ground. The receptacle held some sort of blue liquid or crystalline substance, and I wasn't watching where I was going very well, or maybe the man was deliberately causing a problem, because the tray/receptacle/container bumped into me. I looked at the man pushing or pulling it along, and he seemed cross. Somehow he communicated to me that my letting the container strike me started some sort of reaction in the blue chemical, and now it would be ruined, because it was supposed to be protected from such a shock.
I felt a bit put-upon that he would have been moving around this big tray in such a way that now I'm responsible for messing up its contents. And then I realized that somehow the library book was no longer in my hands. This was a big problem, an expense and an inconvenience and an uncomfortable explanation I would need to make. I thought about this some more, and then I looked up. The guy was still pushing around the large container and its blue chemical, and he didn't seem additionally upset, or like he was trying to evacuate, or warn anybody, or anything like that. I began to wonder if he had not simply lied to me about my contact with the container causing any sort of problem at all. Then I woke up.
