Dreams that are that rational are suspect in my book.
Last night I dreamed that I was living in an apartment building that a friend of mine from high school also lived in. I went to use the common laundry, which had two front-loader machines. Angie’s stuff was in the “dryer,” so I loaded my things into the “washer.” I couldn’t find the soap input, so I just tossed it in with the clothes and turned the machine on. That’s when I realized that I had just put clothes and liquid detergent into the dryer and not the washer. Just then, Donald Trump appeared at the door dressed as Tony the Tiger and said, “It’s gonna be GREAT. Believe me.”