I think I may have a problem.

So I've dreamed about a lot of things, but this was a first. I'm walking along a shoreline with a group of people (we just escaped some castle in the clouds where a monster kept trying to kill us. Those pesky monsters are always trying to do that), and we are walking in the VERY cold water that is lapping up on the shore that seems to be made up of fish tank gravel and our cat's "crystal" cat litter. So with every step I have frozen feet and little pieces of the "shore" jab into me. For some reason (that I'm sure only dream-logic can explain) the ocean in the cove we're walking around has a tarp over it. Kind of like the kind you put on your backyard pool to keep leaves and bugs from falling in it. Anyway, as I'm looking at my frozen feet walking across these jagged pieces of litter I notice a string float out from under the edge of the tarp. It's a beautiful, variegated burnt orange and forest green string in what looks to be a sockweight merino. I am intrigued and distracted by the fuzzy so I lift the edge of the tarp and follow the string to its' skein. As I lift the tarp I notice more floating strings of color attached to skeins. What do I do? I do what any self-respecting, fiber-obsessed yarn whore would do, I start grabbing these skeins of yarn and putting them in my sweater (conveniently oversized and not being affected by the fact that I'm wading in water). The people in my group see me doing this, so like good little sheep, they do it to. I remember the guy next to me (I don't recall who he was in the dream, but I knew for a FACT that he had absolutely NO interest in yarn) had a duffel bag (which, in the dream, was my old Nike duffel bag I used for laundry) and I asked him if I could use it to hold my yarn. He said no. Jerk. Anyway, so we're all gathering yarn from the sea and pulling this tarp back to reveal more treasures which seem to be warm, dry, and fluffy despite their origin. As I'm gathering I hear some people talking about why this yarn is in the ocean in the first place. Duh! Thou dost not ask about miracles from the Yarn Goddesses, thou only grabs with much fervor and glee. So it turns out that this yarn was on a freighter ship from Noro Yarns (even though I know I saw local and domestic handpaints in there) it crashed into the cove (no one was hurt), and instead of creating an oil spill it created a yarn spill. The company factors these "incidents" into their budget and therefore anything that was lost needn't be returned. Oh happy day! I remember retrieving a couple cones of cashmere worsted weight and almost crying. I remember showing them off to everyone that would appear, since this ocean somehow ended in a hotel banquet hall. And they would oooh and ahhh and I would pet the cones. Me and my messenger bag (ask and you shall receive) full of yarn were the happiest in the world. Then Sam head-butted me and tore me away from this utopia and now all I have are the memories of it.

I don't interpret dreams usually, but I wonder what this one is saying?