I dreamed at least two dreams last night. The first (or rather, the last – I usually recall dreams in reverse) was a heist movie. It ended with the bad guy looking for where he could plant the big explosive charge. It was in a building where some function was going on. Before that he dropped off me and Libby and Dottie on the street as a diversion. It was hard to tell if we were hostages or if we were under cover or if he was betraying us. I think we were all FBI agents and he turned out “dirty.”
Before the drop-off in the street we were driving around some big city in a dark blue van. The big bag of money and the big bag of explosives were in the back of the van. As he was taking off we opened the back of the van – I’m not sure how he didn’t notice, maybe he did. Anyway, the money and the explosives were both gone.
The previous dream had me at a big gala dinner. I’m not sure how big of a deal this dinner was – but I was worried that I was under-dressed so I changed into some kind of khaki pants and a white shirt. I was debating putting on a tie, or a jacket or both. There was a big fella sitting at the table near-by – but his outfit consisted of a blousy kind of ensemble that would be strange with a tie or jacket, so I couldn’t judge by him.
This big dude looked a lot like young John Goodman. He had a young daughter who was eating mellow-cream pumpkins and drooling orange all over. Before this I was at home or, I think, at my parents’ hotel room preparing for the evening.
Things get fuzzy before that – I think there was a nursing home as well. Perhaps Monsieur le duc d’Archacon was dying there in the home?