I had the most bizarre dream last night. I was walking by a strip mall when I saw a darkened unit filled with old Heidelberg printing presses. Testing the door and finding it unlocked, I walked in and wandered around. Turns out it’s not a Heidelberg graveyard, but it’s close: it’s a non-profit craft printing studio. Someone wandered in from the back and we started up a conversation. When they learned I knew how to run them, they got excited and cranked one up for me to play with.
After running the press for a while, more people came in from the back (presumably) from the noise — you always know when those things are running. They, too, got excited that someone else knew how to run them. Without prompting — even without me showing more than idle interest — the owner said she’d have a key made for me.
My interpretation of this dream? I apparently have two post-apocalyptic skills: making pottery and running early 20th-century printing presses. I’d forgotten about the second one although depending on how apocalyptic the post-apocalyptic society is, I may still have to fall back on the pottery.