Spiders

Huge spiders are everywhere. I go with a jar to try and trap one and put it outside. Its thorax turns out to be some sort of spring-trap: when I got near it, it bursts and it shoots some kind of shrapnel into my left hand. I look at the wounds and see that there are large green seeds embedded in my hand. I start to work them out with my other hand--there are many in a wound just below the joint of my left thumb. When I have worked several of them out, I realize that my thumb is now only attached to my hand by a small flap of skin. I will need to go to the emergency room. I am trying not to panic.

Finding Moses in the reeds

On a dark, rocky shore, waiting with someone for my baby son to arrive. We were expecting the boat long ago, but it hasn't arrived, and my companion decides to leave. I consider it, but eventually decide to stay. I go up higher for a better view of the entire bay, so as to see the boat if it comes. Eventually I see it and go down to meet it--I'm either in the water or in another boat which swamps as I meet the incoming rowboat and am handed my son. He is enormous, and I have a moment where I am worried that he looks unusual and unlike his picture, but soon I see that no, that is indeed he.

In a very small elevator with two other people, I pray that we do not get stuck, as I am at risk of having an attack of claustrophobia.

Travels

I am a guest at someone's house, there are several people there. I realize that I have been pretending to be blind and therefore must continue to keep up the illusion. I try to think of reasons to explain why I can move around so well despite the fact that I can't see.

Going to the airport, driving down roads in Alaska. At the airport, from the parking lot, I get in line for some sort of pod-like shuttle system, wherein one person is able to get in the shuttle car at a time--it reminds me of the futuristic public transportation designs that were once described to me by D. When my shuttle comes, it's a Segway. I get on and ride around, testing out the servo motors that keep it upright. It's faster, and more wobbly, than I would have expected. I ride up a flight of stairs in it.

Threads

I arrive at A.'s house, having (I thought) been invited to an after dinner party with her parents and family. But they are playing some sort of game and they are about to go out to a restaurant. I have already eaten, I say. I feel kind of awkward, but didn't they invite me over in the first place? They seem to want me to come with them,  maybe I can get a glass of wine and some hors d'oeuvres while they eat. 

In a large vehicle on the way, we are crossing some sort of flooded creek. In front of us, another SUV hits a bump, takes an awkward turn, and suddenly disappears down into a sink hole. I jump out of the car to the edge of the sink hole, people from other cars come to help as well. In the back seat, the passengers seem to be able to extract themselves--it seems better if they can move themselves than if I try to grab them and pull them out. As they are escaping, we move to the passengers in the front seat to see what sort of state they are in.

I'm working on a science project for school. It involves using a machine to allow I. to lift the front of my car easily, even though she is small and the car is very heavy. Also the solution to a quadratic equation is involved. It is the day the project is due--I get to school realizing that while I started the project, it isn't quite ready, and more importantly I haven't done the write-up. I dash to a computer--there are 45 minutes before the first bell, maybe I can dash it off? I wake up--thank goodness, there is no paper actually due. I drift back to sleep, and I'm right back in front of the computer, and the paper is again due. No, I tell myself--this isn't real. 

I'm driving somewhere, but I'm not paying any attention at all and I miss a turn off the highway, and have to go around. I wind up on the bus, I am going to the Colman docks to catch the ferry as part of a school trip--I'm a younger man, student-aged, now. I get off the bus at the terminal, and suddenly realize I've left my luggage for the trip on the bus. Now I won't be able to go. I go to the Metro office, and tell the woman I've left my bag on a bus and I have to get on a ferry, is there any way I can get it back. She seems friendly and helpful, writes down the description and color of the bag (I say it is true black, she writes down blue/black, I correct her), and asks if I can be a good lad and wait. I say I can indeed be good, though I might try and find something to read, like a Stranger. As I'm waiting, I notice that I've warn loafers, which aren't good shoes for a trip to an island. Oh well, that seems like the least of my problems at the moment. I wait. A bag comes in that isn't mind. I wait. The woman comes up to me, she's holding my bag! She is very pleased with herself and I am very happy. I will get to go on the trip after all.

Restart

I have to have some sort of surgical procedure done to my right hand. M. is in the room and has just had it done, his entire hand is wrapped up in a big white bundle of tape and gauze. The procedure seems to involve a rotating saw and I tell the doctor I don't know if I can handle it. He admits it is intense. It turns out the saw is actually some kind of sander and the procedure sands down my nails, and the surface of my fingertips down to near the bone--the doctor does it a finger at a time and it doesn't hurt at all. I remark that it will be awhile before I play the guitar again.