The One With Toothy (with cameos by Steve Zahn and John Cleese)

This was one very long, convoluted dream, so I'll shorten it to the highlights.

IRL I work with archiving material, which means that, among other things, I pack books into boxes after numbering them and putting them on to the system so they can be called upon for future reference, or eventually all materials going back to the client.

I dreamt about boxes. I was a spy, and I had to find things hidden in boxes in some warehouse and bring them back to an apartment, which was a safe house. I was mostly alone except for the odd time I would glimpse Steve Zahn running past the room I was in and banging on the walls. At one point I had to pick up a package from John Cleese, who was my boss. He wanted me to find an H-bomb in one of the boxes, then hide it in his Aston-Martin and drive it back to the safe house. I found it impossible to hide, but I got it back to the apartment. This time I could see and hear Steve Zahn banging on the walls and yelling, "I'm a photographer! I'm not supposed to be here!" Then he turned to me and said, "Don't you get it? WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" I wasn't sure what he meant by that so I continued to take the things I found out of their boxes, then hide them in other boxes. I wasn't sure what to do with the H-bomb, so I left it in the original box.

Then ... I'm outside by a large pond (or small lake). I've dreamt about this area before. I'm walking along, marvelling at how green everything is and thinking what a beautiful day it is when I realize people are wailing. I heard "worst holocaust of the new millennium" being mentioned. Somehow everyone left on Earth was a survivor, but I didn't know what had happened because I was holed up in either the warehouse or the apartment. Then I met Jake Gyllenhaal, who was a war photographer. It was one of those angels singing and white aura moments. His shoulders were very broad, broader than I thought they would be.

Shoulders aren't broad enough in real life

I don't remember making love to him but supposedly I did because I felt guilty for cheating on my husband. Plus, I couldn't figure out why he would want to have sex with me - an overweight middle-aged woman.

I was reunited with my husband and son, but I didn't say anything about my spy activities or about the cheating. Somehow, Jake found out my phone number and he called a few times. Each time it was to angrily tell me not to get in touch with him. I tried to tell him I haven't but he wouldn't listen to me. My husband finally asked why he was calling and I said it's because we have to work together on something. The next time I saw Jake, I suddenly realized he was angry with me because I didn't call. He said to me (reminiscent of Sammy from Jersey Shore), "So, are we done now?" I told him we never really were, it was a mistake to do what we did.

We were in an open area (near the pond/lake) and there was more talk and fear about this holocaust business, which irritated me because for me the word holocaust is usually associated with genocide and this clearly affected people from all walks of life. I went home. Jake called me and said, "Okay, so I've decided that we're done but if you don't tell your husband, I will. Because I survived the holocaust. I'm a survivor."

Remember these things?

I became so upset that I went back to the safe house, found a sledge hammer and started banging on a dinette chair from the 50s. Steve Zahn was working my last nerve with talking about all the creative people who had lost their lives, and I knew Jake was going to spill the beans about our "affair" to my husband. What did I do? I got the box with the H-bomb in it, opened it up and took the sledge hammer to the nose of the bomb. End of dream.