I'm trying to sort out the dreams I had last night. The overall setting matched the theme of this week: a career change. Dominant images include being a member of the Mob, and flying a Cessna around Alberta. I think the Mob was a part-time job. I was strutting around in a tux, presumably with a gun in my pocket. I cringed when one of the other members screwed up on a job, and instead of shooting him, the don kicked him hard in the balls. There was other Mob-related images, but they're fading already. As for being a pilot, I remember I had a long list of stops to make (carrying cargo, I think), and all was going well. I was trying to take off from Calgary (?) to cheers of the flight crew shouting "You the man!", but couldn't because a hanger was being built directly over the runway for some reason (perhaps it was actually a Wal~Mart). I was taxiing back and forth in frustration, roaring down the runway in an attempt to gain the proper airspeed, and had to hit the brakes because a guy on a ladder was suddenly in my path. I woke up when I realized it was futile.
I think the moral of the story is never eat pizza minutes before going to sleep.
