A group of Mennonites (or all Mennonites) have decided that we should all battle. Now, if you don't know what Mennonites are, then what you need to know in this situation is that the Mennonites are pacifists. That means no fighting ever, or at least varying degrees of no fighting (some people, myself included, think it's okay to fight to save your own life or someone else's). So the Mennonites have completely changed their ways and are going to have a street brawl. I'm in a car with a bunch of people heading to the fight, but I obviously really don't want to fight because, you know, I haven't suddenly changed my view on pacifism and I don't want to get beat up. We pull up in our car to Fraser and Broadway where a small mob of people are ready to fight. They're all sort of reaching into the car and stuff, but somehow I manage to flee, and I run down Broadway and through some park where some dude is giving a seminar to a group of women on avoiding rapists. He talks about not running in dark areas, but I have no choice, I must run through the darkened park to avoid the battling Mennonites.
Somehow I get to my home and lock myself in my room. The next morning I go into my roommate's room because my dresser full of clothes is in there (because that makes sense), and all of my stuff is sort of pulled out of the drawers, my underwear is all hanging along the side, and everything is generally ransacked (although I remember that I owned really really cute underwears in my dream). I go to yell at my roommate for going through my stuff, and he points out that someone wants to talk to me. It's the dude who was the head of the gang of fighting Mennonites. They're mad that I didn't fight and that I have such an easy life, and he's there to take care of that. I try desperately to convince him that I don't have an easy life, because I'm totally poor - I couldn't even afford the $5 entrance fee for the fight (yes, that's right, this mandatory battle of Mennonites had an entrance fee).
And.... that's the end of that dream. Then I was at my parents' house making a meal and there was a plate with little baby alligators on it. I put them into the dish I was going to cook for my meal, and then when they were all in there, face up with their little eyeballs looking at me, I realized that I can't eat them! They're tiny and cute and I'm a vegetarian for pete's sake! Just then they start escaping and I run to open the door and let them run free, just as a mail man comes and drops off a delivery of Christmas cards for me.
Okay, Freudians... GO!