I had a dream last night. In this dream, I was on a bus coming back from a war zone with a bunch of soldiers. I sorta befriended this one black soldier. I myself hadn't been in the war. Then, as only happens in dreams, I knew that this evil doctor I worked for had given all the soldiers a mild case of chicken pox that was highly contagious and would spread to their families the moment they got home. I also knew that he planned on giving the actual antidote/healing medicine to the white people, and more virulent deadly versions of the disease to the black people but pretend it was medicine. I rushed to the ward. I was immune for some reason. The evil doctor was Dustin Hoffman in bad khaki shorts and a hawaiian shirt. We both entered at the same time. I found my black soldier friend, his wife was already dead, but his little girl (about two years old) had just gotten sick from the initial disease and hadn't been given medicine yet. The doctor was hovering, so I had to hug my friend, and while hugging him whisper, "do NOT use the medicine. It'll kill you." He believed me. Just then, the doctor showed up, dropped off the "medicine" and wondered why I was there. "Just saying hello to an old friend." I totally looked guilty though. I was able to tell one other person on my way out to not take the medicine, and to spread the word. The doctor caught up with me. He asked what I was so guilty about. I reluctantly showed him the candy I had stashed in my purse. He tsk tsked, shook his head, smiled, and sent me on my way. At that point, I woke up feeling like I'd saved the entire world. It's nice to wake up feeling like a do-gooder.