Last night I saw many of you in a dream I had where I was at a conference somewhere. There were so many absurd vignettes, including one scary one where I was told one of you is dead. You're not dead, though, and I woke up grateful for that.
In the dream I dealt with angry people, dealt with a close-talker with an enormous face who was really interested in my views on planning and fell in love with someone based on the appearance of a star in her eye. While I was helping with crowd control during the break between two sessions, two bumbling idiots decided to walk into a decorative buffer next to a staircase.
The latter action caused a tremendous disturbance in a small stream that flowed through this room, making channelized nature slightly dangerous.
But what woke me up was the site of a man whose head was opened and his brain had been scooped out clean, and his skull was made of plastic. As he died, he told me what I needed to be careful of. Music from a spy film played as I woke up and wanted to get back to sleep to hear the rest of his pronouncements.
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