Asleep fully cothed
QOTD: "If living conditions don't stop improving in this country, we're going to run out of humble beginnings for our great men."
Breakdown of time expenditure over the last 24 hours:
Prep for work: 45 minutes
Total transit: 1.75 hours
Eating: 1 hour
Work: 9 hours
Sleep: 11 hours
Misc: 30 minutes
Last night I dreamed that I was in Alaska at a kind of natural stage/amphitheater which was apparently one of several major gathering points for hippies during a Wookstock kind of time. It was an awkward setup of stone outcroppings wrapping along one side of an "ocean" that looked very much like a scene from Dagoba but without the cyprus trees. There was a McDonald's nearby and I ate with two other people. Based on the food we bought, we got tickets. I didn't get enough tickets to get any free food. The guy that sat next to me offered to give me his 10-point ticket, but even with that I would've been a point short to get a hamburger and all I'd be avle to get would be a cup of water. Cliff was there with someone that looked like his brother (I've never seen his brother, mind you), though that's the end of that significance.
Back outside, I departed from the group down a straight, forested road. A short way down, I heard the sounds of a horse riding. I looked back and saw an unstable, inky silhouette of a knight on horseback, galloping toward me. I managed to sidestep and the knight charged past. After he passed, however, he circled around and charged again. Naturally, this time I jumped up and kicked him, albeit somewhat inefficiently. I spun ungracefully and landed mostly acceptably on the ground, having knocked the knight about but not enough to dismount him. He circled again and this time I got a good running start and landed a foot square on his chest (I was really good at jumping) which was sufficient to knock him off the horse.
Others came running and I knelt over him as someone removed the helmet. "It's Sir Gawain," someone said. (Colonel West?) Of course, this looked nothing like any description of Sir Gawain, as he had buzzed, bleach blond hair, a long face and high cheek bones. And his face was much too dirty given the kind of helmet he was wearing. He said something that I don't remember, and he died moments later. End of dream sequence.
Breakdown of time expenditure over the last 24 hours:
Prep for work: 45 minutes
Total transit: 1.75 hours
Eating: 1 hour
Work: 9 hours
Sleep: 11 hours
Misc: 30 minutes
Last night I dreamed that I was in Alaska at a kind of natural stage/amphitheater which was apparently one of several major gathering points for hippies during a Wookstock kind of time. It was an awkward setup of stone outcroppings wrapping along one side of an "ocean" that looked very much like a scene from Dagoba but without the cyprus trees. There was a McDonald's nearby and I ate with two other people. Based on the food we bought, we got tickets. I didn't get enough tickets to get any free food. The guy that sat next to me offered to give me his 10-point ticket, but even with that I would've been a point short to get a hamburger and all I'd be avle to get would be a cup of water. Cliff was there with someone that looked like his brother (I've never seen his brother, mind you), though that's the end of that significance.
Back outside, I departed from the group down a straight, forested road. A short way down, I heard the sounds of a horse riding. I looked back and saw an unstable, inky silhouette of a knight on horseback, galloping toward me. I managed to sidestep and the knight charged past. After he passed, however, he circled around and charged again. Naturally, this time I jumped up and kicked him, albeit somewhat inefficiently. I spun ungracefully and landed mostly acceptably on the ground, having knocked the knight about but not enough to dismount him. He circled again and this time I got a good running start and landed a foot square on his chest (I was really good at jumping) which was sufficient to knock him off the horse.
Others came running and I knelt over him as someone removed the helmet. "It's Sir Gawain," someone said. (Colonel West?) Of course, this looked nothing like any description of Sir Gawain, as he had buzzed, bleach blond hair, a long face and high cheek bones. And his face was much too dirty given the kind of helmet he was wearing. He said something that I don't remember, and he died moments later. End of dream sequence.