From: Richard.Silk@Juno.Com   
      
   For whatever reason, after letting the dog out this morning, I went to the   
   couch   
   for a "couch nap" to finish up what felt like the need for another hour of   
   sleep   
   (which turned into more like 2+ hours) but that led to a rather *peculiar*   
   dream:   
      
   This time, the dreamer was "me" in that my full name and set of numerology   
   numbers were clearly shared, and the reasoning process was clearly laid out, as   
   if it were a totally real-life situation.   
      
   The only thing that was a bit dream-like about it was that the buildings and   
   building construction location differed from "IRL" (in real life) but that   
   oddity was barely noticed during the scene:   
      
   The dreamer observed a *set* of offices *very much like* where I had my vision   
   checked and frames picked out (at Dr. Cunningham's practice and Murfreesboro   
   Optical Dispensary (MOD) which were like a single building rendered into two   
   sides, a left half and a right half, pretty much like a residential duplex IRL)   
   only in the dream, they appeared as two different buildings, slightly apart,   
   with enough space between them that a lawn mower or sidewalk could pass between   
   them.   
      
   Also, they were in an area of land that IRL is located on Greenland Drive,   
   across from Reeves-Rogers School, but which IRL was converted from a cow   
   pasture   
   into a parking lot.   
      
   In the dream, the action taking place involved a discussion between the dreamer   
   and a female (similar to my old RR principle, Mrs. McNabb) who had the persona   
   of someone from MOD who was telling me about how they were moving, and the new   
   location was to be on the lot of leveled dirt in which we were standing, which   
   was located as if in the area to the left (east) of the existing (dream)   
   building locations, yet accessible by a road that proceeded due south from   
   Scottland Drive *across* Greenland Drive, and the construction lot was to the   
   west of that extension of Scottland (which IRL is on land owned by the State,   
   specifically, by M.T.S.U., and has a different street name.)   
      
   This is where things start to get super-specific, as in real-life detail:   
      
   A smaller female with a darker appearance than the lady-figure from MOD shows   
   up, and starts behaving in a fascist-type law enforcement roll, declaring she   
   was going to have to take us in for trespassing on State property.   
      
   As the dreamer, I was somewhat vexed, because I was there presumably as a guest   
   of the people from MOD (the lady from MOD had a male assistant, but he had zero   
   interaction with the rest of the scene.)   
      
   I, the dreamer, began explaining to the femiNazi that I was there as a guest of   
   the other two, who seemed to have been making a quiet exit from the scene,   
   leaving me like a fish caught in a net.   
      
   The femiNazi said that there would be no liability on my part if I had a "Power   
   of Attorney" giving my authorization for being there to the couple from MOD.   
      
   I stated something like "no problem" and began looking for a sheet of paper to   
   draw up a PoA (which I realized ahead of time would need to be narrow in scope   
   and limited to one day, just to cover the timeframe of being on the property)   
   while clearly pondering the act of telling them that I used to play on campus   
   as   
   a child *all the time* and was never subject to such treatment (which is true   
   IRL as well as in the dream) but instead kept looking for paper to write on.   
      
   About this time, the femiNazi was checking on me, and (possibly attempting a   
   brag) I brought up my numerology, *something* like:   
   "I'm impressed you're still pursuing this trivial matter.  Most people leave me   
   alone after realizing the numbers of my name-"   
      
   "Oh, what's that?" she asked.   
      
   "Numerologically, my name (destiny) Richard Carl Silk, = 11, while my birthdate   
   (birthpath) =22, and my overall (power) number =33."  (In the dream, I did not   
   speak the words in parentheticals, perhaps trying to simplify the sentence.)   
      
   I *think* there was a reply similar to: "Well, none of that means anything in a   
   court of law-" implying that a Power of Attorney form would (and does.)   
      
   I walked a distance westward along the construction field with a set of car   
   keys   
   (well, one car key and a house key and some other tags, just like IRL) to get   
   to   
   my car, then realized it was all the way back at a point near where I'd started   
   from, but rather than walk all the way back to the car, instead began looking   
   for something on which to write.   
      
   Somehow I found a thick folder filled with papers, similar to completed school   
   assignments, and there wasn't a clear section of paper found anywhere on which   
   to write.   
      
   Feeling dejected, I walked back to where the femiNazi was waiting (although her   
   patience was running out) and explained I needed to find a sheet of paper on   
   which to write.   
      
   A filing cabinet (about 4' tall) was there, and either in it or on top there   
   was   
   found a batch of papers that appeared to be advertisements for an upcoming   
   show,   
   such as a school play at MTSU.   
      
   I picked out the first page, and noted that it was the mock-up art for the   
   flyers, so I skipped it and started paging through the flyers, then realized   
   that the *backside* of a flyer would suffice as a clean writing surface.   
      
   The femiNazi appeared, as if for a status update, and I stated that I was   
   unable   
   to find any clean paper [over there] so I was looking through [this area] and   
   felt it would be best to skip using the mock-up artwork, as it may be needed   
   for   
   whatever reason in the future.   
      
   The femiNazi actually agreed, and I continued with something like:  "...so I   
   figured the back of a flyer should suffice" (to which she also agreed.)   
      
   As I began formulating and writing the document, I kept the letters neat,   
   printed (not cursive) and wrote out:   
   To Whom it May Concern:   
   However, for whatever reason, the page seemed moist in places, and the clarity   
   of the ink being used appeared questionable as a result.   
   I was working on the line defining the limited scope of the PoA for MOD when I   
   started complaining to the femiNazi that I needed something better with which   
   to   
   write, such as a pencil, when the dream ended.   
      
   So while I have practically zero idea as to what this all may have been about,   
   the clarity was 10-, as there was just enough frustration involved to prevent   
   it   
   from feeling *like* "real life," although the *clarity* of the name and   
   numerology was 10.0 (ten-point-oh.)   
      
   --- SoupGate-DOS v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)