First, I dreamt I was in a collegiate art class, and then this girl drew a glyph on the wall outside which summoned forth from the earth a division of WWII-era tanks ... with minds of their own! One of them had the personality of Patton. Things turned to rubble quickly.
Next, I dreamt that I was passing time in the last house my grandparents ever lived in, when a tall politician walked in and fired everyone (from what? I dunno) before I could shut the door in his face (and I did).
Then, I dreamt that while escaping a tense and awkward but otherwise ordinary house remodeling project, an athlete (?) threw a hammer at me. So I picked it up and hit him with it. Which angered other athletes. I got into a fistfight with them. A tough one, very visceral for a dream (that is, it kind of hurt to punch people). Burt Reynolds showed up to help, but because it wasn't 1977, he wasn't much help at all.
So it went.