recursive fun

I had a thought a minute ago, and it has left me, but in my efforts to think what it could possibly have been, I remembered that I had good yuletide ideas last night as I was drifting to sleep, did not get up to write any of them down because it was way too late, and (sure enough) forgot about them until just now.  So, yay vanished thought, whatever it was.

Weird dreams last night, where a bunch of us were in a band of, like, rebel freedom-fighters led by Clive Owen (or, you know, someone played by Clive Owen), and hiding in a sort of dorm or hostel where we were safe, but there were a lot of angry people, and we had to share a room with someone who had brought along a pet tiger, and I don't even know what.  There was text in the dream, that's for sure, like I was reading it (and seeing it) instead of experiencing it, which is unusual.  There was also some stuff about long snowy roads, and a couple of us from high school (self and a guy I haven't heard from since) thought we saw someone we knew (my friend J, whom I see every couple of years) and called to him, but he didn't turn, and we hurried to catch up with him, and I dropped my knitting bag, and it turned out not to be him at all, but a woman with a similar gait and haircut, and when I picked up my knitting bag the guy from my high school thought for a moment I was stealing something from the lady.

It was the kind of morning where I definitely had the sensation of swimming or climbing or crawling or clawing -- in any case, fighting -- my way up out of sleep.  Y'all ever feel that?

Anyway, coffee's on now.