Dream: Cheap hotel in the tropics

Just woke up and had the best dream ever. I owned a “cheap” hotel in the tropics. The ocean was right there; you could hear the surf. I was in a perpetual swimsuit and doing work on the property. My gay handyman was gazing at people and not getting any work done. So I was cutting down a wildly-berried tree from a staggered rooftop with gardening shears (not quite working.) I had shears and my giant gold scissors (from real life), one in each hand. I twirled them around like guns. Going downstairs I saw two older guys approaching the pool. One frankly looked me up and down and appreciated the merchandise. The other was wearing white tube sock and plastic, multi-colored Birkenstocks (ghastly). The first man was your classic man, an older Bond, a real man. I liked what I saw too. I was so tempted to jump in the inviting blue pool, scissors and all, but decided to keep at the tree. It was the old-school 50’s – 70’s style hotel with the pool in the middle and rooms opening up to the pool/courtyard. I went upstairs and dream began to unravel, plane went overhead, no tree up there.  Oh, Charlie Sheen was there and had started partying already. I was like an older Bo Derek. A retro dream that could…happen! It was set at my age and not idealized. Possible! Never ever considered a cheap hotel. There was a definite Bond-esque quality to the dream. Somehow, the sun, the ocean, liquor, hot older gentlemen, and the best me in my 50’s or 60…delicious.

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