Dream Diary Entry recorded September 11, 2018

My dream returned me to Ridgecrest Baptist Conference Center. I stood on the upper floor of a complex of buildings there that does not really exist, at least not in the specific location or configuration. I was just outside an upstairs entrance. The building was painted tan on the exterior. There was a sidewalk leading to upstairs entrance one way, and to a ramp that led downstairs at right angles to it. I went in through the upstairs during late evening hours because I was not on any kind of work shift but I needed either to go to the bathroom there or to get my possessions. I stood in a kitchen area next to a cafeteria space, and someone was on the late night cleaning shift mopping the shiny floor of the cafeteria. This blocked my path to where I needed to go, because I did not want to put footprints where the young man was just cleaning. Then a black woman in her 50s or 60s with medium length gray hair that fanned out and wearing a brown shirt and jeans greeted me with a hug. I do not remember her from real life, but in the dream she was someone I had worked with and befriended back in 1978 during my summer at Ridgecrest. We chatted happily and then she could clearly see my predicament, knowing where I wanted to go. She guided me through the kitchen into the dishwashing room and The Dragon - the large steel automatic dish washing machine with a conveyor belt that required a large crew to operate it. No one was there now, and The Dragon was turned off, except for the conveyor belt, but she urged me to get on that belt and ride through the Dragon because it would let me out where there was a door to get to my destination. I thanked her but was a little dubious. I got on the belt, which had, as in real life, prongs made of sturdy material to hold plates and such, and began riding through. I was fearful of steam or hot water hitting me as I traveled, but all of that was, as she had assured me, turned off. It was quite a long trail through the Dragon, with some unexpected turns, much longer and indirect a path than in real life. By the time I got through it, the dogs woke me up for their early potty visit.

Then I dreamed that someone had shown me, either in real life or online, a wall display with several needy people throughout the world whose children I could donate to help, using a very nice graphical user interface. I was so charmed with it, I had selected two for monthly contributions before I even realized it, but had not pressed the final button before I realized what I was doing. The second I had selected was a shapely young Hindu woman in gauzy veils, obviously in her late teens. I could not recall how much I had selected to donate to her or to the young African man I had first picked, and I went back, changing the displayed amount from $60 to something a good bit less, wondering if it was a monthly charge, and thinking to myself I hadn't needed to add this to our expenses at all.