Vintage Magnolia Bottles and the PLANT (again)

Okay, so in my dream, we were re-organizing our work area and moving things around (which makes sense because we are actually expanding at work, and managers are moving -- although not really my department). Then out of the blue, someone told me, I think it was Olaf from the warehouse, he told me that I could take the plant home and that he's got my back because he's friends with the plant guy (the plant maintenance guy who comes in once a week to water, and dust the plants). I was hesitating, but someone just cut a big stem off and told me that I could take it home, and so I put it in a huge plastic bag and brought it to the trunk of my car (which looked like the back of a van, actually) or perhaps my CRV back home. It appeared that someone was driving for me (Raquel's brother?), and we got busy packing my car with other stuff I could take home from what seemed like an office give-away or yard sale. (I think I also saw my old friend Adoralyn in my dream). I remember looking through vintage Magnolia glass bottles and I was so excited I wanted all of it. I was focused on a glass bottle that was shaped like a big shoe and I remember muttering, "My dad will like this!" and also a big pitcher, and some chocolate and milk bottles I remember from my childhood.





I don't know what to make of this strange dream -- but one thing is for certain, I still yearn for a Massangeana Cane plant like what I have at my cubicle at work:

I want one for the corner of my kitchen and one for my living room, and I still don't want to spend a single cent for it. So I am still hoping that one day, I will get one for free. Like old vintage bottles and anything with an antique flair -- which I have so much passion for. And if they're free, it's more meaningful and so much better. And my dad! We just share a lot of the same interests that most of the time, I see something that he would like and stuff like that...

The driver -- maybe I miss someone driving for me on my errands? Or maybe I just struck a window, like a mere intersection of past memories, short-circuiting in my brain. Like having Adoralyn there. Just recently, I posted a shoutout in Facebook addressed to her, telling her to stay in touch (because we've been checking out old photos of our highschool class that our classmate posted on Facebook).

I still want a plant though...