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Okay, I don’t think this is necessarily a dream from the Lord, but I’m not on medication, either. I just thought I would throw this out there for the fun of it.Brad was in an office in a basement-like room. (Not a room that I imagine his real office looks like.) He came from the office to the adjoining room to where a young woman was doing some administrative work (shelving books or folders or something) and where there were papers on a bulletin board showing local resources of where people who were facing hard times could get assistance.There had been some sort of church potluck and I was packing up a lasagna and some fried chicken. (It was not something I had cooked, but something I was ending up taking home. That part of the dream was just a slight variation on an actual happening.) Now, don’t ask me how a church potluck was taking place in an office. Dreams are like that sometimes. Brad was getting ready to eat lunch (something healthy and low fat, lol. I can’t really remember, but I’m thinking a salad and one other thing, perhaps) at the desk in the outer office, and almost as an afterthought, I offered some of the food I was packing up. He took the smaller of two pieces of chicken that were on the plate, a piece of chicken that had been cut off a larger piece. (I thought chicken would complement his meal nicely.)I left and wondered if he would think the chicken was good and would wrongly attribute to me the cooking of it. (In real life, I do not know how to cook chicken, shocking as that may seem.)Then I dreamed about a bunch of other stuff with other people. They say you remember your dreams if your sleep is interrupted, so I must have had my sleep interrupted.