WTF Was All That About?

I'm not into the whole dream diary/dream interpretation thing in a big way. I dream a lot, very vividly, in full colour, and I remember them, if I kept a diary it would take far too long. I do try to figure out what a dream means, roughly, on waking, and generally if it makes no sense, I just ignore it and move on.

Last night's saga was so specific it was as if it had been scripted. There has to be a meaning, or several meanings behind this, but I'm not sure what. I'm going to emphasize the things I think might be significant, and you can do the rest.

I was in a town by the coast, sleeping in a wooden hut, which was incredibly luxurious and well-appointed, for example it had a bed like you'd find in a 5-star hotel, and in the bathroom was not so much a bathtub, as a small pool - about 12 feet long with rocks, plants and mini waterfalls. The hut was also noticeably warm and dry, which it shouldn't have been, as it was constructed of thin plywood. (I'm guessing the wind howling outside was involved in this bit).

Michael showed up, dressed as a policeman. This surprised me a bit, as I hadn't realized he'd joined the force, but I immediately shrugged that off, as one does in dreams, my natural mother's pride kicked in (N.B. this was the only emotion felt during the dream) and I took his photo.

I then took my photo card to a camera shop to get a copy of the photo. (Note: I never do this. Every photo I've taken since about 2004 only exists in digital form.) The machine that one uses to get the prints would not take my card, so I took it to the assistant behind the desk instead.

She was polite and friendly, and did the print for me, but as I went to pay she charged me for 1000 prints. Naturally I contradicted her, but she stood firm that I had had that many printed. A crowd gathered. Among the photos she showed me were things I recognized, including a photo of the construction of the bath/pool from my wooden hut.

I called aloud, is there a lawyer in the crowd? And one stepped forward.

I stayed calm, I knew my rights, but just for good measure, I attacked her, pulling her hair and laying her on the floor. But there was no anger, which is worth emphasizing, as often in dreams I feel angry (I don't in waking life). I was just making a point. The lawyer smiled but wagged his finger at me. So I stood her back up again.

She had now lost my card and photo, so I told her I was suing her for a million dollars. That seemed to have the desired effect, as she searched frantically. I woke to the alarm clock.