I woke up at 3:30 a.m., not feeling well. I finally tried to go to sleep — and dreamed.

I seemed to be visiting a friend, although the longer the dream went, the more it appeared that I lived there as a roommate. But it felt strange, and I felt out of place. The place was huge and cavernous and seemed more like rock than wood.

There were a lot of people around, mostly young women, getting ready to go out. I decided my bed wasn’t where it belonged and moved it to an out-of-the-way nook, along with some coat racks on wheels. By the time the bed arrived at its destination, it had shrunk from a full-sized to a twin.

I had to go somewhere, like everyone else, but didn’t know where or when. I didn’t know how far behind I was in getting ready. I also had no idea what my friend/roommate looked like. I couldn’t find him anyway, and I was very curious. I thought he might be avoiding me. I spotted him once or twice, but wasn’t sure because he was a little different than how I had pictured him. When his face was at rest, he seemed very sad; when he smiled, he glowed with happiness. He always seemed to be out of reach and mostly out of sight, and the more I glimpsed the more I wanted to talk to him.

I finally ended up going to a market or fair with an older, distinguished man. He bought a sandwich, but they threw it at him in a hurry, and all it consisted of was a slice of bread, mayonnaise, and a tomato. He got two more slices from somewhere else.

No more returning to the friend in the dream . . .

I was at a camp, although the people (friends? family? strangers?) were staying in an old house. Outside, I kept finding large wildcats everywhere. I tried to fend one off with something I was carrying. It followed me into the house, where there was another one.

In my mind, it was a holiday, and I heard water that I shouldn’t have heard. There wasn’t just a drip from the ceiling; water was pouring down. Yet I hesitated to call because of the holiday.

My uncle died, and the funeral or service must have been outdoors. There was an envelope that looked familiar, as though I had seen another one like it at the funeral closer of someone closer to me than my uncle. For some reason, it seemed to me it was my responsibility to open it. I did, and asked my other aunt (not the widow) if it was from her. She nodded yes. I don’t know what happened to it.

Suddenly my boyfriend (not a real one, a dream one) announced that he felt a sudden need to see “Robert” and was going to see “Robert.” (I say “Robert” like this because in the dream it never occurred to me that “Robert” is a man’s name or that he was leaving me for a man; I think we both acted like “Robert” was a woman, a former girlfriend. Where the name “Robert” comes from escapes me.) I asked him if that meant that he was just suddenly leaving me in the middle of my uncle’s funeral for no better reason than an urge to see someone he’d had a failed relationship with. Yes. He had no problems with me, but he wanted to go back to “Robert.”

I walked off toward the trees, crying and deciding never to get involved again.