I haven't had a dream worth writing down in more than a year, apparently. But this one seems important:
Was at a party at my childhood home. Had a fight with my family. We all took the train downtown. We fought some more, and I got off the train in an unfamiliar neighborhood, telling them I would get home on my own.
Ended up at a gala opening at a museum. One of the paintings was mine. I had been working hard on it, trying to get it to the specifications of the people who had commissioned it for their project. The details of the project were unclear. The painting was of a man on horseback fighting some kind of creature with the sunset in the background. There was a shield with words on it in the foreground.
I couldn't get the painting right, and that caused a problem. The museum began to fill with water. All the guests began to panic. The people in charge told everyone to follow them. They took us through the back passageways of the museum. We all huddled in one of the galleries.
Something was coming. It was some kind of big monster that could swim. It turned out to be like a huge centipede smashing through the walls to get to us.
I knew my only chance was to get back outside the museum where there was no water. Instead, I woke up. I guess that was my other only chance.