. . .

I had a dream

In this dream, I was some sort of secret agent, I think. Making my way through the steets of Cupertino, underground, through water pipes and so forth. Me and the person with me (Mandie?) had scuba equipment, and we were scubaing underwater, being chased / followed by these two / three other secret agents, enemies (sorta), being led by this one woman. We got to a water amusement park, where there used to be piping and waterflow all the way through that we could get to, but this time they had remodeled the front end and we had to come to the surface and sneak into a tunnel. The ones following us caught wind of us, and after we had figured out that we were in a semi-dead end, with no time to look for a better way out, we hid quickly and hoped they wouldn't notice us. I hid, I realized, behind a semi-clear patch of material, so the woman in the lead saw me and realized I awasn't part of the exhibit. She stopped and looked at me with an odd smile, then reported to the others (who may have been more in charge than her, on reflection) that we had gotten away. They were pissed, but tromped off, and we went through up the stairs behind a secret panel which led us out. My mother was there waiting for us. The security guard let us out with a warning, 'cause she was an old friend of my mother's. (I mean, we had come out the employees-only secret passages.) We collected our scattered scuba equipment and dragged them away.

Somewhere in the water park, I remember, I had stepped in fish. LIttle sparkling fish, and the little sparkling fish were sharp somehow and shredded the bottom of my feet. THere were little fish parts still stuck in them as we walked away. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was definitely unpleasant to contemplate.

I'm tired. I woke up... well, technically, I suppose I got about 9 hors sleep, so I shouldn't be complaining, but I'm good at complaining, so there you are. I need to sleep I need to sleep but I can't keep writing I need to sleep, so I'm managing somehow.