Well, most of my dreams are either quickly forgotten, or being lost in a confusing building (which has at best an even chance of turning into a High School nightmare again) rather than being anything you could call "the best." Like just now, lost in a building, stumble onto a Tony Stark-type dude wearing "I am important" clothes, and apologize for being in the VIP area and for not recognizing him, but claim to be a new arrival (and have been pulling around a rolling luggage) and got turned around looking for a bathroom.
Leave that area and wander around a while more, lose the luggage at some point, then spot a woman leaving and figure it might be easier to go around the outside back to a main entrance and ask a receptionist. Outside it's the front entrance of my high school, but rather than pay attention to that I notice the jewelry box Mr. Big was holding earlier on the ground. Pick it up just in time to meet him also coming out the door and obviously seeing it in my hand, scramble for an excuse again, and spew out that I heard something fall as she was going out the door and thought I should check in case it was important and should be returned.
"Apparently not," says not-Tony, waving off my attempt to hand it back to him as he proceeds out to a waiting limo. A moment of lucidity ensues where I realize I'm dreaming about high school (and looking for a bathroom) and decide I'd better wake up, and the whole thing shrinks into a line and then a dot before winking out as I become aware of the fan noise and open my eyes, like a CRT television image being turned off. (This is also fairly common.) And now it's back to the insomnia routine, three hours after I staggered off to bed finally tired enough to fall asleep
Leave that area and wander around a while more, lose the luggage at some point, then spot a woman leaving and figure it might be easier to go around the outside back to a main entrance and ask a receptionist. Outside it's the front entrance of my high school, but rather than pay attention to that I notice the jewelry box Mr. Big was holding earlier on the ground. Pick it up just in time to meet him also coming out the door and obviously seeing it in my hand, scramble for an excuse again, and spew out that I heard something fall as she was going out the door and thought I should check in case it was important and should be returned.
"Apparently not," says not-Tony, waving off my attempt to hand it back to him as he proceeds out to a waiting limo. A moment of lucidity ensues where I realize I'm dreaming about high school (and looking for a bathroom) and decide I'd better wake up, and the whole thing shrinks into a line and then a dot before winking out as I become aware of the fan noise and open my eyes, like a CRT television image being turned off. (This is also fairly common.) And now it's back to the insomnia routine, three hours after I staggered off to bed finally tired enough to fall asleep
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‎noli esse culus
‎noli esse culus