This is a dreamlog, archived from Everything2.
**Paypal was going nuts. **
Every few minutes, a new transaction would come in, informing me that You’ve got a pumpkin, or some such similar nonsense. This is bad.
I fall over, and wake up. The room is filled with woodchips; I have to dig my way out of them, constantly fighting gravity, trying to get to a ladder leading up and out through a hole in the ceiling of a grain elevator.
The phone rings; I wake again. Tarzan-style, I’m swinging from the cat5 that’s strung across the ceiling. I fall, and keep falling.
I wake up.