“That’s More Like it!” OR “Non-Nightmare, Hooray!”

18 03 2008

Last night at 8:20, I concede and take a Tylenol PM.
By 10:15, I am blissfully asleep until around 2 or 4am (which is typical for me) and then I’m up at my regular time.
I feel 100% better today.

Dream:
I am part of a group that revamps debilitated building into usable space.  At least that’s what I think we do… there seems to be a lot of partying and running from the cops, but our intentions are seemingly good.  Like the opposite of Project Mayhem.
We’re on the top floor of one of the buildings that is in the city in all of my dreams and there’s no roof.  We’re going to turn it into condos, right after we get done drinking and having a good time.
There must be a hundred people there and everyone has a job.  For some reason the building, which is in crazy disrepair, has a working elevator (and escalator) and we’re on the 8th floor.  The look-out makes sure that no building inspectors/officials are coming.  If the elevator lights up, we’re to scatter (by taking the OTHER elevator or escalator) and gather as many materials as possible.
Well, wouldn’t you know, here come some officials.  I was busy partying, so I didn’t hear the alarm.  I am not able to make it to the elevator or escalator.  I am trying to hide behind half finished walls to no avail.  I finally slide down the escalator handrail and run out into the street.  There are no other tall buildings around and there’s really no place else to hide.
(Some things happen that I can’t remember)
I’m part of another group and we’ve finished a renovation.  Part of our deal is that we squat until we determine/plan our next project.
Naturally, we’re not supposed to be there and when the officials come to inspect, I am  pretending that I am an adult toy (if you know what I mean), hoping the officials won’t kick me.  They leave and the rest of the group comes from hiding.  We all go back to our respective beds to finish sleeping when one of the renovators starts up an air compressor which ends up loosening up all the rebar and it comes shooting out of the walls, effectively killing all of my competition.
(Some things I can’t remember)
I am stupid wicked successful; leading an urban renewal group.  I am well-known and well-liked.  I have power, money, minions.  I can get away with anything and I do.

See, that’s more like it.
Is it anymore realistic then my nightmares?  Hell no.  But at least I’m not running around scared (the entire time) or naked.
I feel empowered this morning.

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