Dream About Natalie And Laptop Charger

I dreamed of Natalie, a girl from high school who was a beautiful, talented fellow violinist and among the best in my youth orchestra. I dreamed about Natalie a lot in the past when I was preparing to apply to MFA programs in creative writing. She always appeared green-eyed, seductive, and taking me somewhere private, notably among beautiful Grecian ruins in gold and green weather in the past. In last night’s dream she appeared more normal and somewhat anxious. I appeared as myself and was helping her. She was at my parents’ house with me, and was scrambling to find her computer charger. This charger issue made her cry. I soothed her until she quickly stopped crying, and investigated all the ports on her laptop with her to see what chargers might work. At one point I asked if a VGA port was for a charger (specifically a red charger), and only now upon waking I’m wondering why I asked that, as I’ve never known a VGA port to have this function. She seemed to say no regarding the VGA port and a charger eventually materialized and the dream moved on. We were in my mom’s sewing room on the second floor while dealing with the charger. At one point she told me she had never seen the sun rise. Like she never watched the sun rise at the horizon. I asked “really?” And promised to watch it with her. I was surprised and happy to do that. We ended up missing the sunrise as she dealt with the charger and I promised we’d check it out next time. At one point I rummaged through a sample box of makeup, and a Colorado company with beautiful packaging caught my eye. I knew it was expensive and wasn’t going to purchase it (it was so much money per ounce/fl ounce) but I browsed a palette of two eyeshadows (terracotta and gold), nude eye pencils, and a small trial bag of tiny light green brushes shaped like animals. They had tube bodies as if they were mascara or potted eyeliner but I actually couldn’t really tell what they were, just thought they were cute, and also didn’t purchase them. I was completely fine not purchasing anything. I also remember extensively reorganizing dusty shelves, while a stranger, a kind and normal woman but sort of intrusive presence, asked periodic questions and sort of interviewed me. I don’t know what she wanted and wanted her to go away, but was still tolerant and polite to her. The shelves looked like big versions of a small shelf I found on the side of the road, and it was easy and fast to move big rows of dusty old books from one shelf to another. I did it as if by snapping my fingers, rather than by individually moving each book. I also moved around large instrument cases in a similarly easy way, definitely cellos and maybe basses, on a large dusty shelf in the same room.