is there a dream interpreter in the house?

Think I may need one. Allow me to recount the last two dreams I remember having.

Dream One - Last Week

I'd been on a night out in Nottingham at Stealth. It was a fun relaxed evening, so I'd decided to experiment a little by taking a pill of something or other.

Cut to later on, and I'm stumbling home unable to control myself. I'm walking over Trent Bridge falling about all over the place. On the final stretch home, two guys approach me, kick me to the floor and mug me, then running off.

At this point, I woke up.

Dream Two - Last Night

I've finished work at Rescue Rooms, and a couple of the bouncers (one of which is Kev, can't remember the other one) ask if they can have a word. They take me aside, and suggest that they might have a bit of extra work they can throw my way. They want me to deliver a small white container to some place in south Nottingham the next afternoon.

They pass me the white container. I peer inside, it's full of a fine white powdery substance. I have my misgivings about the idea, but they then proceed to offer me £15 (!) for the job, and so I accept.

Cut to the next day, and I'm jumping across the stream behind my old school's playing field, with the container in my jacket pocket (there's problems here. First: I don't currently own a jacket, and second: there is no stream behind my school's playing field. Just a whopping big dual-carriageway). The two bouncers are ahead of me shouting at me to hurry up. At this point, I hear something behind me in the distance. The sound of sirens. I look around and sure enough, a big police van is racing over the moor-ish land towards me. I run, but it's no good. As they get closer and closer I chuck the container in the stream. The bouncers have managed to run off. The police shoot a tranquiliser dart in my leg.

At this point, I woke up.