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After a week of build-up, Jason and I finally had to admit last night that we've got the flu. It's not too bad--the most noticeable symptom is an impressively deep, throaty cough--and I'm hoping it will be gone by the weekend. But at the moment I feel very foggy. I've already had one nap today and am contemplating another one.
Dec. 3rd, 2003
After a week of build-up, Jason and I finally had to admit last night that we've got the flu. It's not too bad--the most noticeable symptom is an impressively deep, throaty cough--and I'm hoping it will be gone by the weekend. But at the moment I feel very foggy. I've already had one nap today and am contemplating another one.
Since I'm sick, I took a nap earlier and had a very funky dream. The plot was more coherent than usual, I noticed as I woke up, but the details have largely disappeared at this point.
Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.
Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.
Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.
Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.
Since I'm sick, I took a nap earlier and had a very funky dream. The plot was more coherent than usual, I noticed as I woke up, but the details have largely disappeared at this point.
Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.
Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.
Leah and I were visiting a temple in Bhutan. It looked like an American suburban bank building (70's modern) but it was up this mountain and we had to climb the steps. In fact, there was a whole lot of stair-climbing throughout the dream, which I'm going to put down to my breathing being labored. The god of this particular temple was said to possess his priests and we had somehow been invited to witness this ritual. Leah was very excited about it and kept commenting on how cute the priests were. They did the ritual and whaddya know, it worked. Then Maoist rebels (guess my subconscious isn't very clear on the distinctions between Bhutan and Nepal) attacked the temple complex. They were coming up the stairs and we could hear shooting. The two of us and the god and a couple of acolytes (one of whom was a blond, sort of skanky bad-boy American) went out a back door of the inner sanctum, into the catacombs below. Then there was a lot of running around, up and down stairs, getting split up, finding each other again. Adding to the confusion, the god got tired of the particular priest he had been possessing and started hopping around between various members of the group. I spent a lot of time observing him and thinking about how it was that I could tell which one of the more-or-less interchangeable priests was the god at any one time. Apparently the god didn't like Americans, because none of the three of us were ever possessed. Eventually we got down to the bottom of the inside of the mountain and we could see light coming in through the entrance and I woke up.
Yay fever dreams! They're one of the few good parts of being sick.