A wierd one

I really don't dream that often, maybe once every week or two at most. And when I do, they often tend to be extremely mundane. So last night's was unusually fun: the dream was more or less a pilot episode for WKRP in Cincinatti. It bore little resemblance to the original, except that they were auditioning hilariously incompetent staff. The really odd part was that the tycoon who owned the station was named Leopold Senghor, who's a famous African poet from Senegal. Except in the dream, I was convinced he was the grandson of a famous Impressionist painter. So what, precisely, is this supposed to say about my subconscious?