Morning of March 23, 2015. Monday.
My wife and I are in a car in an unknown region, though it could be Brisbane. I believe she is driving though the scene is not rendered that fully or clearly - it is more like we are moving along within a light mist that is only implying an actual vehicle. She is relating how a (unknown) younger female was caught sending stolen precious gems in the mail. Apparently, my wife is required to sit with other people and take some sort of government-related tests. The location and the building is all unfamiliar.
There are perhaps a dozen people in the large room sparsely seated at several tables. Although the scene does not really have that much of a scholastic setting or mood, I become aware that the people are working on one-page third grade math tests for the most part. This has to do with some sort of government-related assessment to see the potential of certain individuals in society. It seems that each test for each person is slightly different (possibly so that people cannot copy another person's answer). Mostly, there are one to two-digit addition problems and a few multiplication problems. Most of the people are over thirty and seem to be quite challenged by third grade math (as in reality on Facebook, where people argue over one simple grade one to grade four problem, the majority usually wrong). Every now and then I notice something different, such as something that resembles a "Wishing Well" newspaper feature but more of an actual challenge. I am not involved in any testing - I am only there for my wife due to complete distrust of mainstream authority.
At one point, I notice my wife is sleeping on a table (on her side) due to the stressful environment (in having anything to do with government and bureaucracy) though the scene soon shifts. I go to the other side of the room and talk to an older wealthy-looking lady working on a test. She seems over fifty. I tell her that I know that it is third grade math because of my long-term experience with teaching K12 mathematics (though mostly based on combined international standards). At this point, however, I do see a long division problem on her page where the divisor is three numbers. However, I notice that the dividend area is not a complete number and to the right of the digits that are visible is a long black bar filling out the rest of the area under the long division symbol. I tell the older lady that this is not real math, suspecting that something is wrong, yet I do not become lucid.
From there, I walk across the room and see my wife sitting in an armchair and another (unknown) female is on her right and other females are standing - it seems to be a smaller open room off the main room. At first I think she may be ill, but it turns out that she has a bowl of tomato soup on her lap and the other female has a different type of soup, possibly celery.
On the other side of the main room, I start talking to someone (also in an armchair) who turns out to be a young version of Don Knotts (died February 24, 2006). Another male on his left is also seated and seems to be a young Jack Gilford (died June 4, 1990). I am only slightly aware that they may be ghosts. Our conversation is very cheerful and friendly and with respect. I notice that other people are looking at me though cannot see the two males I am conversing with, which I confirm by asking them if they see either of the two and their response is "no". In fact, Jack plays a prank on one unknown girl by somehow pulling her belt off so that her pants fall down. However, this seems ambiguous because she is immediately wearing different clothes. (The scene was likely due to a brief association with Simon Hunt, also known as Pauline Pantsdown, an Australian satirist). Later, I notice that a large television is on (to the right and against the wall from where we are). Jack makes some sort of comment regarding how he cannot understand what people are saying in movies anymore. There is something about Harvey Keitel being in the (unknown) movie. Earlier, there had been the sighting of a Barbara Mandrell album (odd, because I know very little about her and have not seen anything about her in over twenty years). There is some sort of confusion about the name in it being more like "(Barbara) Mandel" which shifts to "Harvey Mandel" (an American guitarist) in confusion with Harvey Keitel.
My dream was quite long and meandering, though this last part is similar to a few other dreams where name associations keep changing, something the subconscious seems to do more than the conscious if only by its complete lack of coherence and critical thinking skills. Mandel may actually be a subtle play on Mandelbrot.