Last night I had two dreams that stayed in my waking memory.
In the first one I had decided to take a job offer that meant that I had to move to Virginia. (My brother was doing the same thing but he would be living in a different part of the state.)
I was packing the trunk of my old Mustang (gone these 20 years) and the first thing I put in was my Martin guitar. I piled and tucked other things on top and only later realized that I should have put the guitar in last.
I was in a terrible rush; as I said to my brother: Do you realize that one week from today we have to be in Virginia?
The other dream was set in Alaska. I was chatting with a friend and gradually became aware that where she was living (and leaving) was looking for a resident manager, one that allowed pets. I wanted the job but she was already discussing the position with a potential renter.