last night's dreams ended with a danger/adventure chase. i was driving a car with some fellow, who was on my side in things, riding shotgun and some other fellow on our side in the back seat. i forget what had led up to it, but the guy in the back was in charge of publishing something, and we were on our way to his office in philadelphia to get it printed & out (urgently) & we drove up to stop at some cafe & saw some of the bad guys there, waiting to kill us. i turned quickly to get out of the parking lot, as we realized we shouldn't have mentioned to somebody's girlfriend that we'd be stopping there (or else she just knew that it was our habit or backseat guy's habit to go there, but either way she musta been the one who told the bad guys), and as we started to pull away one bad guy stepped out ahead of us in the street with his gun, getting ready to shoot at us. so i plowed into him with our vehicle (which was now a big black SUV) & sent him flying in the air.
it felt gleeful to me to have dispatched him thus. (i realized later he looked like a character on The Wire, where there are big black SUVs.) so we were then on our way to get to the word processing at backseat guy's office, as i wondered vaguely if other bad guys would be meeting us there. turned out, though, that, unlike me & frontseat guy, backseat guy was traumatized by my having just committed the vehicular manslaughter thing. he was crying. then i remembered that he was dennis kucinich, and he'd had a hard childhood. his distress woke me up.
the night before featured sleeping on the floor in my cubicle at MR, which was formed, as were all of ours, by metal dividers ordinarily used for bathroom stalls. but without doors. i was sleeping in the same position i was actually sleeping in, in the bed, but thinking how much more comfortable for sleeping this workspace was. some newer fellow workers came by to ask me questions, and i had to wake up for each of them, and resented it.
segue to me riding a mountain bike on some dirt trails and then having to walk it up a steep incline to where it came out at a street. there, glad to see me, were a coupla kids i knew, with a nanny i didn't. i played with them, burying the girl in orange & brown leaves, to her delight, twice---the second time with the fine leaf crumbs they'd turned into after the first. but then i had leave to go to some quaint social gathering (such as i had on tap the next day).
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it's all about ladies' gatherings these days, ain't it? i'll take days to recover. yesterday i had to take hours just to stop feeling like shit.
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last night's dreams ended with a danger/adventure chase. i was driving a car with some fellow, who was on my side in things, riding shotgun and some other fellow on our side in the back seat. i forget what had led up to it, but the guy in the back was in charge of publishing something, and we were on our way to his office in philadelphia to get it printed & out (urgently) & we drove up to stop at some cafe & saw some of the bad guys there, waiting to kill us. i turned quickly to get out of the parking lot, as we realized we shouldn't have mentioned to somebody's girlfriend that we'd be stopping there (or else she just knew that it was our habit or backseat guy's habit to go there, but either way she musta been the one who told the bad guys), and as we started to pull away one bad guy stepped out ahead of us in the street with his gun, getting ready to shoot at us. so i plowed into him with our vehicle (which was now a big black SUV) & sent him flying in the air.
it felt gleeful to me to have dispatched him thus. (i realized later he looked like a character on The Wire, where there are big black SUVs.) so we were then on our way to get to the word processing at backseat guy's office, as i wondered vaguely if other bad guys would be meeting us there. turned out, though, that, unlike me & frontseat guy, backseat guy was traumatized by my having just committed the vehicular manslaughter thing. he was crying. then i remembered that he was dennis kucinich, and he'd had a hard childhood. his distress woke me up.
the night before featured sleeping on the floor in my cubicle at MR, which was formed, as were all of ours, by metal dividers ordinarily used for bathroom stalls. but without doors. i was sleeping in the same position i was actually sleeping in, in the bed, but thinking how much more comfortable for sleeping this workspace was. some newer fellow workers came by to ask me questions, and i had to wake up for each of them, and resented it.
segue to me riding a mountain bike on some dirt trails and then having to walk it up a steep incline to where it came out at a street. there, glad to see me, were a coupla kids i knew, with a nanny i didn't. i played with them, burying the girl in orange & brown leaves, to her delight, twice---the second time with the fine leaf crumbs they'd turned into after the first. but then i had leave to go to some quaint social gathering (such as i had on tap the next day).
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