I don't remember much of this dream, it is really fragmented, so this won't make much sense, really, to relate as a narrative.
I recall a piece where I was at an airport waiting for a flight to Champaign. Except it was on some foreign carrier, so the tickets were hard to read, and the flights weren't boarding by destination, but by flight number, but instead of normal short numeric flight numbers they were all things like "KKTN-44674-TF9" so it really made me quite anxious to be sure I got on the right plane. I thought I knew which plane was mine, by matching the tail number with my ticket, so I walked out onto the ramp to board. Except hmm, it was more like a boat dock; a raised wooden platform with aircraft "moored" on either side of it, weird. I walked down there and suddenly "my" plane was gone, leaving a big empty space. I asked someone for help and they gestured at a different plane, which was of a much different design and even paint scheme than all the other planes.
I'm not sure if I got on that plane, or what. The only other part of the dream I remember was being in some big office area full of partitions and cubicles, and at this sort of dead-end formed by three cubicle walls, I run into Sandy. She's naked, but modestly covered with a sheet she has wrapped around herself. She's talking to me in a sort of soft, dazed way, just like she was days before she died, and I can't quite understand what point she is trying to make, but I keep interrupting saying "Sandy! Sandy! Weren't you dead?!" And in response to that she smiles and shows me this thing sort of like a bowling scoresheet that's hanging around her neck on a string. There are incomprehensible numbers and notations on it, but all of the numbers are integers except a few, that have fractions written after them. The fractions are in bold, and she points them out. Somehow the fractions make it clear to my why she is here alive, and I'm very happy about this.
But then I woke up, I think.