memo to self

What remains in your styrofoam tin is approx. nine chips with cheese and brown sauce.

See also: breakfast.

Go to bed now.

signed,
self.

dream theater

I had two very strange dreams this morning.  The second I don't remember at all, but the first was this:  there was a huge storm -- heavy rain, thunder like you've never heard, lightning and wind -- and it moved through very quickly.  When it had passed, we looked out the windows and there was wreckage; in particular, what we thought were even darker clouds were clouds of smoke from where lightning had hit a couple of trailers nearby, which had burned to the ground.  But then before we knew it, the wind had changed and the same storm blew back in, and it completely destroyed the first two rooms' worth of the building I was in, at one end, where my room was the second from the end.  We were bracing ourselves under things and covering our heads while the place was splintering around us.  I lost everything.  Nobody was hurt, but a lot of us were hunting for shelter after that, of course; when the storm had blown itself out we were setting up kind of dormitory-style campsites with narrow cot-sized mattresses on the floor and things.  I even remember that I was somehow conscious that I'd been sleeping and therefore this was all very much like an odd dream, and a friend of mine was there, and I said to her, Hang on, it'll be all right, because this is a dream, and I'll wake up soon.  And she looked at me sort of sadly and said she was afraid not, it wasn't a dream, it was real, and she was sorry.

She was so convincing that when I did wake up, I wasn't entirely convinced that I had.