A man just appeared in my room.
Balding and moderately fat, he carried a half full trash bag and announced his presence by asking if I had anything to donate for kids with cancer.
Something like, "oh, ok" was my response.
We went through my closet and some of my clothes. I chose some barely used board games and clothes that wouldn't fit anymore to toss into his trash bag; he thanked me and went on his way. His way being downstairs to ask more of my family members if they'd like to donate to kids with cancer.
I found one more extremely small, elementary schooler sized jacket buried in the depths of my closet, and started to rush down to add to the black donation bag.
That segwayed into exploring outside in some unfamiliar city. One of the first things I saw was a huge crowd gathered in front of a Walmart; like the guy before, they were collecting items to donate to kids with cancer. From the looks of it, they were extremely successful. Tables stretched from one end of the parking lot to the next with stacks of items and teams of people at each of them. I walked by smiling at the lively, bustling display.
Continuing on with playing my usual Pokemon go, I found myself at a park with other players nearby, but decided to take a bath around a block and back. I walked past a little shopping center and a school, before it was only the houses of blending neighborhoods that lined the streets.
Towards the end of the route, I manifested a bike, not to ride, but to lean forward on as I started running. Once I got bored of my weird, little bike-burst, an interesting sight appeared in the Pokemon go over world:
A Chein-Pao, not named that, but a bad word starting in R flashed on the encounter screen.
Just as quickly as it appeared though, my phone's death made sure it disappeared just as quickly. Sighing, I continued on my walk, now able to enjoy the mostly obstructed nature growing around me.
Now back at the park, I was able to charge my phone again and open up Pokemon go once more. Oddly, weather boosted Metang were now abundant. Them being somewhat spread out in separate directions made choosing which path to take a little harder; regardless though, I made sure to give the players around me a heads up that the Metang were there.
Later on, some of the other players and some donation event workers met up to go eat at a restaurant resembling Panda Express in that we were choosing a size of container then picking the selection of Americanized Chinese food. There was rice, spam musubi, veggies, various meats, multiple lo-mein options, and orange chicken next to french fries that I had to go out of my way to look for. All of it was self-serve, yet upon getting to the orange chicken, a worker jabbed a colored, plastic cup nearly into my face with the single word of "tip?" Sighing again, I opened up my wallet to give him a five dollar bill and dropped it in the transparent plastic cup.
Following that, the hodgepodge group of us sat around the tiny restaurant lobby and enjoyed our lunch.
...
In a likely unconnected dream, I was at a cousin's house. One of my younger cousins was playing some kind of Pokemon Let's Go romhack on the TV. He was at the Elite 4 with half his team fainted. Proclaiming that he was now bored, he asked me to take over, which I happily agreed to do.
The team had over leveled Pokemon with high base power attacking moves without regard for one being a physical or special attacker. The last of the team, a Venusaur who was already knocked into red health went down to a Moltres' flying type attack. It probably didn't help that I refused to heal or revive any party members out of nuzlocking habit.
Victory road is what made me say this was a "Let's Go romhack;" Pokemon appeared, roaming over grids of grass. More interestingly though, there were locked doors with keys and shaking Gimmighoul chests around the paths.
This dream ended with collecting four of the correct keys, causing the barred, metal door to light up with a flash of blue-green and a celebratory sound effect.
That somehow led to another dream, this one a class field trip with a Ms. Frizzles-like teacher. There was a hint of magical presence within the classroom, and some explanations to many questions seemed to either defy common sense or be so foreign that no one could gauge the validity of them, while also somehow being reasonable enough.
The class took a field trip to an almost abandoned city. Not-Ms. Frizzles led us around, showing the best places and routes within the city to escape to in the event of some chaotic crowd forming. The fact that she found a spot in the city void of life apart from us was unnerving enough that the students were intent to listen to whatever this lesson was.
Once again in the classroom following the trip, one of the boys in the class started tying fourth dimensional knots with a glowing, string-like material. The rest of the class including myself soon joined in.
