"Right round baby, right round..."

This morning the neighbor's honking horn woke me up. This happens every weekday morning, but today I was crushed because I'd been dreaming it was the weekend--a bad sign when it's only Tuesday.

Earlier, in my dreams, I was on the road to Minneapolis. In my dream, though, the city was a surreal, carnivalesque collection of tall buildings and palm trees--complete with sunset-tinged smog. Another of my proclaimed "favorite views" was of the freeway soaring seemingly straight into the clear blue sky, over an expanse of matching sea.

Bridges, along with driving in general, are a recurring theme in my dreams, as is the lack of control that characterized this drive. I kept (unintentionally) spinning the car in circles, but somehow repeatedly emerged completely unscathed--a good thing, since I think Ellen (with whom I'd been discussing Minneapolis last night) was in the passenger's seat at that point. (Interestingly enough, Ellen and I did actually have this experience in Lincoln several years ago, when the Popcan hit a patch of ice on 56th ST and turned a 480 or so. As in the dream, both of us remained completely silent.)

I figure the interpretation of this one is probably fairly straightforward... if not exactly inspiring.