Weird dreams again
I spent the night outside again, until about 6 am, when I went inside for a potty break and continued sleeping inside until 11:30 am. I moved the CPAP and humidifier back into my room. I think I'll be spending the nights there from now on. I didn't have a bad night last night, though. I went to bed around 3 am, having checked the radar again and finding nothing approaching SLC. The air was still, I could see the moon, and I reasoned that if it was going to rain, the wind would start blowing first. It didn't rain.
But I did have some wild dreams. I think I had them after going inside.
Marci had called in a favor from a friend of a friend and arranged for me to meet with the editor of a publishing company. She sprang the surprise on me and practically had to drag me into the meeting. The locus was College Town, a quaint little compendium of shops and restaurants just east of Cornell. I wasn't ready to meet with a publisher! The woman asked me if my story started on :: weird term I didn't know ::, which I hurriedly guessed meant a particular place in the signature. I answered yes to stall for time. She asked me a few more questions that led me to believe that she thought I had a story all written and ready to go.
I got out of the meeting and was really mad at Marci for pushing me to meet with the publisher before I was ready. Now I had to hurry and write something, and I didn't think I was up to it. As time went on, though, I came to understand that the publisher's expectations weren't quite that strict. They wanted me to go somewhere and help with some kind of sting operation that was designed to take down a tyrant in a small South American country. My Spanish skills were needed. I was one of several undercover operatives who were to be present at a meeting that the tyrant would be attending. I can't remember what the pretense of the meeting was, but I do remember dealing with some poor children and pesants. I had to act in a regular little drama wherein I had to feign admiration and loyalty to the tyrant or some such thing.
But I never got to see the actual take-down: I feel asleep instead. The tyrant had left the room under some pretext, and during that time it was revealed to the people that the tyrant was the illigitimate son of an indio, which meant that his claims to rulership were null and void. I don't think the tyrant himself knew the truth. Either way, his power collapsed in that moment. When I woke up, the tension in the room had totally dissipated. It felt weird to be able to act naturally, speaking English to some of the other operatives, and loading up or equipment onto hand trucks. Everything in the room was done in a reddish clay color.
I hadn't been permitted to see exactly where I was being taken, so I asked people where we were. Turned out that the small country was embedded in Argentina, near Rosario. I was stoked: "I'm in Argentina, I'm in Argentina," I chanted as I did a happy dance. I had never been to the conosur, so that was another notch in my World Traveller belt.
But I did have some wild dreams. I think I had them after going inside.
Marci had called in a favor from a friend of a friend and arranged for me to meet with the editor of a publishing company. She sprang the surprise on me and practically had to drag me into the meeting. The locus was College Town, a quaint little compendium of shops and restaurants just east of Cornell. I wasn't ready to meet with a publisher! The woman asked me if my story started on :: weird term I didn't know ::, which I hurriedly guessed meant a particular place in the signature. I answered yes to stall for time. She asked me a few more questions that led me to believe that she thought I had a story all written and ready to go.
I got out of the meeting and was really mad at Marci for pushing me to meet with the publisher before I was ready. Now I had to hurry and write something, and I didn't think I was up to it. As time went on, though, I came to understand that the publisher's expectations weren't quite that strict. They wanted me to go somewhere and help with some kind of sting operation that was designed to take down a tyrant in a small South American country. My Spanish skills were needed. I was one of several undercover operatives who were to be present at a meeting that the tyrant would be attending. I can't remember what the pretense of the meeting was, but I do remember dealing with some poor children and pesants. I had to act in a regular little drama wherein I had to feign admiration and loyalty to the tyrant or some such thing.
But I never got to see the actual take-down: I feel asleep instead. The tyrant had left the room under some pretext, and during that time it was revealed to the people that the tyrant was the illigitimate son of an indio, which meant that his claims to rulership were null and void. I don't think the tyrant himself knew the truth. Either way, his power collapsed in that moment. When I woke up, the tension in the room had totally dissipated. It felt weird to be able to act naturally, speaking English to some of the other operatives, and loading up or equipment onto hand trucks. Everything in the room was done in a reddish clay color.
I hadn't been permitted to see exactly where I was being taken, so I asked people where we were. Turned out that the small country was embedded in Argentina, near Rosario. I was stoked: "I'm in Argentina, I'm in Argentina," I chanted as I did a happy dance. I had never been to the conosur, so that was another notch in my World Traveller belt.