I dreamed that I was part of the crew of an underwater spaceship, and we had to deal with an alligator that got on board. How the alligator got on board was never explained, but now is not the time to ask questions because, you know, alligator. The plan was to flood the ship and wash the alligator out. There were only enough air pills for the female crew members. The men would have to hold their breath and hope for the best, with the expectation that not all would make it. But before we could execute the plan, the door caved in and the ship began to fill with water. At this point, I transferred to another dream in which I discussed cookbook organization techniques with a friend of mine. “Do you organize alphabetically by title? By main ingredient? By frequency of use?”

None of the cookbooks had any alligator recipes.