Not the one about being the only one at work with no shoes, or the one about flying (that was pretty cool, actually).
In last night's supporting feature, I left all my books outside on the street (in the rain) - I don't know why.
Another time, I was the manager of an old, haunted post office where the previous postmaster had been murdered (only the day before) by someone who turned out to be the last person I'd have suspected. When confronted she confessed, laughing maniacally and saying that
"I would've gotten away with it too, if it hadn't been for you meddling kids,"
whereupon, suddenly realising that there was no talking dog and his mad friends, she apologised for being in the wrong murder mystery and arrested herself.
There was another dream about being in charge of the letter "L", which pretty much amounted to a lot of work, and last night's main feature, a Cecil B. de Mille epic involving the Stewart Granger-like Safari adventure involved in preparing to reboot a storage controller on a SAN* array in my datacentre, the actuality of which involved logging onto it, clicking "Restart" and waiting 30 seconds.
Why can't I have the dream about lying on a beach in the sun, sipping a Mojito and watching as Halle Berry emerges from the surf?
I'd certainly trade someone for management of the letter "L"...
*SAN - Storage Area Network
