First I was on a bus and realized there was a better way to get where I was going, seeing as I was carrying a heavy bag of stuff and didn’t want to walk far when I got off the bus. I asked the driver if I could connect to the #4 bus on this route and he looked like he was thinking about it but then he stepped off the bus. I waited and waited but then decided I knew where to go and stepped off and discovered I was inside a gigantic old building, made of brick, and the only way out was to climb a long rickety staircase to the only small exit door at the top. I started climbing and then I saw Donald Trump at a desk with boxes and boxes of invoices beside him, signing each invoice. We talked but I can’t remember what we said. Then he swore. He became angry with having to sign these thousands of invoices and he had a tantrum and threw all the boxes off his desk. All the invoices spilled out of their boxes and fluttered down through the air and made a big mess all around the floor. I carried on up the rickety staircase and when I got to the top, the door was open and Donald was there, waiting. I discovered there was a large gap at the top of the staircase that required me to leap across to get outside. I looked down through the gap and it was a long, long way down. I was terrified and froze. I couldn’t do it, I was trapped. Donald reached his arm out and encouraged me in a kindly voice that I could do it. I tried to believe him and tried to leap across but chickened out at the last second. My stomach was in my throat. Then I was sitting down on the top step and Donald was sitting beside me. He said, “I’m going to stay with you until you’re ready.” He really was very kind and, oddly enough, I felt I could trust him. When I finally was ready I stood up and he held my hand and we leaped together across the gap and through the door. I landed in a back alley and beside me was a scrawny cat and Donald said, “There, now you’re a couple of alley cats.” And he laughed.
There’s a flat piece of empty land, lots of dust, no trees, and there’s going to be really big infrastructure project of some kind built there. I see Justin Trudeau, seated at a desk, bent over a pad of yellow lined scratch paper. I know that he’s scribbling his next speech. He’s hand written several lines, much is crossed out and edited. I say to him, “Are you having any fun? I hope you’re enjoying yourself sometimes.” I seem to be inviting him to join a small festival going on nearby, which at closer look is a bunch of people handling kittens.
The big infrastructure project shrinks down from a very large area into just one location, a perimeter road that has a check point at the lowest point of the land. When you get to that point you’re trapped by the geography and have to deal with the security at the check point. At first I’m free floating and going wherever I want, whenever I want, and I cruise through the check point unnoticed and undisturbed.
But then the dream narrows down to just the check point. I realize that Donald Trump is nearby. I don’t see him but I know he’s there, I’ve heard from others. I wonder if he’s with the people at the kitten festival but I am unsure, something tells me that’s not logical. Then I’m at the check point and this young guard who’s all pumped up with his authority is asking me for the code. I am wracking my brain to remember to code and I just can’t seem to come up with the right one. There was something I was doing that was important but I can’t remember what it was. The guard gets angrier and says that if I can’t remember the code then I don’t get to go through the check point. I’m frightened now, and I look up at the land rising around me in all directions and realize I’m stuck here, no escape, I’m trapped in this low point and don’t know how to get out.
Then I wake up to my dog scratching his noisy collar, and I’ve never enjoyed the sound more. haha
The dream seemed to be all about food and trying to eat healthy. There was a market that was an oblong shape of food stalls, in miniature, each stall had a single food type. Justin Trudeau was there and it was clear that my job was to feed him. He was walking around the outside of the miniature food stalls looking in at them, kind of like bending over the open roof of a doll house, and he said, “I’m hungry, I need something to eat.” I surveyed the available foods to put together a plate of food for him and what was available was mostly rice crackers, which looked pretty healthy, but I picked up a couple of packages of white saltines instead, then put them back because I decided they weren’t healthy enough and Justin probably preferred rice crackers. Then Justin was gone and Barack Obama was there and I was getting food for him instead but by then I had decided that I better make something myself. A sandwich. I would make him a really good sandwich. I decided I would toast the sandwich on one side only, making the edge of the slices all golden and crispy, and put that side on the inside so that biting into the sandwich there would be a crunchy surprise, and I would fill the sandwich with fried egg, spinach, cheese, tomato and maybe some cream cheese and aioli.
I’m working for a man whose business is nefarious. This man seems innocuous and nice but he’s mysterious and I can’t get a straight answer out of him.
He hands me a large white envelope and tells me there are diamonds inside and I must hang onto it and await further instructions. I run my palm over the envelope looking for lumps inside and feel nothing, then I run my fingers along the outside seams and still feel nothing that could be diamonds. So I go about my tasks, which aren’t really apparent in the dream except that it involves much traveling along a well-worn track or circuitous road which takes me far away and keeps returning me to the same place.
At first I carry the envelope on my person for safekeeping but after a while I doubt there’s anything of value inside and decide to be clever and leave the envelope, along with a replica to confuse or dupe any thieves, in a location that seems to be an office. Soon a woman joins the business and she’s my manager but she keeps messing things up. Her instructions don’t pan out, whatever she tells me to do run counter to prior ways of doing things and I keep getting off track. I fear the repercussions of getting things wrong so I go to my boss and tell him what the woman’s done, how she’s screwed up, and to my surprise he fires her. She goes back to San Francisco where she belongs.
Then there’s a flurry of excitement because the Prime Minister is coming and I stand in the background and watch. Trudeau has his back to me and is seated at a large, wood conference table, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows like he’s ready to get down to business. I think to myself that he looks tired but I say to myself, he’s young, he can take it. I wait, as does Trudeau, for my boss to make his presentation, to do something, anything. The time slows down and nothing much happens except for my boss skittering around, shuffling papers, giving instruction to a couple of male assistants but nothing really happens. My boss is frittering away the time with a smoke-and-mirrors style and Trudeau is clearly losing his patience. My boss concludes his nothingness presentation and Trudeau says, “Is that all you’ve got for me?”
Then Trudeau is gone and I say to my boss, “You blew it, you’ll never get another chance. He will never want to see you again.” And I think to myself about what it took to get the PM here, the arranging of schedules, the plane trip, the security detail, all the logistics, and what a complete waste of an opportunity.
In the last scene of the dream I am allowed into the boss’s private quarters. Someone leads me through a grand entrance which soon squeezes down into a tight maze of small rooms, each with low ceilings and dark wood paneling. One male lives in each room. Someone jokes, a bit nastily, that I probably haven’t been inside an all-male sanctum before. Then I am standing up in front of them, as if I’m a stand-up comic on a little stage, and start telling them that I’m no stranger to the boy’s club, I’ve been around it all my life, and a few of them laugh at my joke.
So I had a dream last night that I was at a gala and Justin was there.
Our eyes met and he gave me a little smile.
Later one of his guards ask me to come with them, they led me away from the crowd to a little room where he sat.
He introduced himself and shook my hand, I didn’t even know what to say I could barely speak in return.
He started talking to me, asking me about myself.
My dream then switched. I was at some building that was like a dorm room, there were students around clearly intoxicated, I kept saying how important it was that no one knew he was there with me, I didn’t want to be brought out into a negative spotlight.
The room had a blind with the slats you could lift up and see in and for some reason in this scene the blind went from inside the room to the outside, which kids lifted up and saw him with me, he was shirtless but wearing pants.
I panicked and we somehow got out of there and avoided pictures.
The next scene we were at a pet store, yes I know it’s a dream haha… he was wearing a mask so as not to be noticed and someone with him was also wearing one, we were feeding puppies treats and this went on for a while.
Finally we went to a restaurant, arrived separately, I went upstairs, this place was just like a house, narrow staircase, there was a family eating a massive lobster on the second level, I spoke to them quickly and continued up the stairs to the private room.
Justin finally arrived, he put his hand on my right cheek, came close to my face,…. then I woke up to my two-year-old in front of me saying good morning gah! !!
I don’t even know why I had this dream, I certainly won’t complain though, he’s easy on the eyes lol.
I’m at a wilderness resort of some kind. The resort is divided between the rich people’s section and the non-rich people’s section. In between the two sections are water pools. The water is turquoise, murky and steamy. People at the wilderness resort have to be instructed how to float in the pools. The pools contain deep parts and we don’t know how to navigate those parts, nor do we know what creatures might be lurking in the depths, so we all float at the shallow edges. Then there’s a discussion, women seated at a long rectangular table. We are talking about rare animals, someone mentions that rare animal shit would be good fertilizer for the garden. I pipe up, saying, “Cougar shit would be pretty rare.” Then Justin Trudeau is among us and he chimes in with, “Bear shit is rare.” And I don’t think bear shit is all that rare but I don’t contradict him.
Justin is not given deferential treatment and it seems as if people don’t really know who he is. I know who he is and am very glad he is among us. One woman talks about her life and her challenges with poverty. Trudeau is listening intently. The skin of the woman’s face is heavily cracked and wrinkled from a hard life and possibly way too much sun. She wears heavy make-up around her eyes and I have trouble concentrating on the importance of her words, instead I am looking at the way the make-up didn’t make it into the cracks.
Then everybody is singing a song and my voice is surprisingly good. In fact, it’s so good I am leading the chorus, adding harmonies and riffs which increase the delight of the song. Then I stop singing because I have started to think. My mind has wandered, I’m pondering something. Then Trudeau looks at me and says, “Shellie, keep singing, we need your voice.” So I resume my singing.
Then we are informed that a dog is threatening people and someone reports that it’s large and aggressive. I volunteer to deal with the dog. I find the dog, or rather the dog finds me and leans against my thigh. He’s large with white fur and stiff pointy ears. He looks up and there’s a smile on his face revealing rows of white pointy teeth. I am not afraid. I walk the dog toward the exit and he comes willingly because dogs and I are copacetic in my dreams.