After the barbecue at my parents' house for my sister's birthday I came home about 5:30p and decided to fucking sleep.
(My HP6 came in the mail, by the way... no Tuesday bullshit for the Pasadena Post Office.)
I had a dream that I decided it would be easier for someone to pick me up at the airport (KLAX) than for me to finish driving all the way home. Perhaps it was fears about my car, but I don't think so. I think that I had reasoned in my head that it would be out of my way to continue on whatever road I was already on and it would just make so much more sense if a cab picked me up at Los Angeles International. So I parked the car on the side of the freeway. It didn't look like I-405, in fact it didn't look like a California freeway at all. It looked more like one of those Eastern two-tier jobs. Anyway, I ditch the car, lock it and get into the airport the back way (?... I guess that means across the tarmac.) So I'm in the airport and I realize that I've left my wallet in the car (something I do all the time) and I have no way to pay for the cab ride home. I have my new cell phone, so I'm okay for contact, but not so okay for money. So I call my friend Jaime and I am telling her this story as I walk through LAX, which looks a lot like the casino floor of the Imperial Palace, Las Vegas, having no identification (a scary thing at an airport) and no money... and I can't find the way out of this place!
Then I woke up.