The last two nights in a row now Iapos;ve had exceptionally vivid, story-like dreams, the details of which have not yet faded. While dreams like this are not unusual for me, two in a row is somewhat of a rarety. Here they are, because I thought Iapos;d share.
Saturday night
I dreamed I worked in an office with a large desk and a file cabinet off to my left. I dressed smartly because I worked as a direct assistant to Sarah Palen, who worked directly for Barack Obama. I knew how to do my job and I had enough work to fill my days, but Palen and I did not get along particularly well. I was constantly trying to change things to become more efficient and she was constantly trying to get me fired. At one point she had hired another assistant without firing me first and shoved my desk, filing cabinet and trash can into one corner to apparently make a point, but I patiently rearranged while telling the boy waiting for training that Palen was a pure bitch to work with and he thanked me for the heads up and left to find better employment arrangements. I seemed to get along better with Obama. We would go on walks and I would advise him sometimes, or just allow him to talk about whatever. As people passed, they would greet him as "Mr President". One day we got in a large verbal fight and he did not speak to me for a while. After a bit, I went down to his office to try to make things up. I made preliminary apologies and the cleaning lady (my grandmother on my motherapos;s side) came through emptying trash. He suggested we find a more private place for such discussion, so we went on a walk through London.�I�know it was�London because he�pointed out Big Ben to me, which was hiding somewhat behind some other tall buildings. He took me to a somewhat run down white building in a quiet, private area, and inside was dark and musty. After showing me through the doorway, he suddenly slammed the door shut behind me and locked it. The rest of my dream I spent finding the way out which didnapos;t take long as there were several open windows. So being locked in didnapos;t bother me in itself, but the fact that he would do that to�me, a man I considered friend, bothered me the most.
Sunday night
I dreamed that I was the daughter of Hannah Swenson, the lead in a baker-mystery series I just read the latest novel in. I lived in a small podunk town, and murders of tall thin women with blonde hair had been taken place (the last I think is a tie-in to a vampire series I also have been reading). I lived just outside the edge of town, and there were few buildings in town, including a police station, a public office, the house where the police officer lived, the house where the dentist lived, and�a few other buildings. In my mind, I�had taken�a tour of the town, mapping out routes to safe areas in case I was one such attacked. It was�late one evening and a tall thin blonde female customer had come to our home to purchase some cookies. It was already dark, and I�told my mother that someone would have to�escort her back to the�town as it was not safe for those her type. My mother volunteered me, so I found a flashlight, and my mother gave me�a weapon that had a rounded oval handle and a hook at the end to gouge eyes out. I put that in my back pocket and led the lady out the door and headed down the road towards town. We hadnapos;t made it�far when a male and a female caught up with us and while we journeyed and talked together for a�short while I got a bad feeling about them.�Of a sudden, (based on clues I�must have gathered before becoming aware in my dream) I�knew they were the culprits, and whipping out my�large crochet-needle type hook I�confronted them with the fact.�The female was upset and explained that they smoked too much crack and ended up killing people because of it. She then turned on the male and the two of them ran off.
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