Huh.

"I dreamed about figures." Friend said sleepily as I shuffled down the hall toward the living room from my own nap. Unable to sleep when curled up like a pretzel, I'd snuggled under covers and slept for about 2 hours. "Does that count as work?"

"Sure." I said, flopping on the couch and closing my eyes again. Between a late night babysitting, the time change and rising early to walk the dog (who ate my Cadbury cream eggs! We're now both angry - she that I keep leaving her alone and I that she ate my Cadbury cream eggs!), I needed a nap.

"I dreamed about 2 women in the porn industry. But it was in the 50s or sometime classier - more subtle. One was the owner and the other an actress, but they were sort of friends. At the end, the actress decided to kill the owner with fire." (She actually had a cigarette and while the owner was hiding in a locked closet, she was going to throw it and the entire structure would ignite. She was angry, by the way, that the owner had told her to move out of this gorgeous mansion because she was a whore. Which seems unfair when one works in that industry, but whatever.)

"But the owner had this really well-designed house." I continued my explanation, knowing Friend was too tired to abandon her spot on the loveseat and leave. "And so there was all this water that came down to protect her from the fire and the actress drowned in it." I trailed off at the end because though that was what happened, normally I have some idea of a dream interpretation before I start telling stories.

There was silence for a couple of moments and I closed my eyes, still very sleepy.

"What the hell is in that book?!" She finally asked and I laughed. I got a new romance novel from amazon and started to read it last night.

"It's not the book - that's pretty standard. I don't know where that came from, actually."

So the update for today is that I'm very, very sleepy. Still thinking about the book too much. And wishing I had a Cadbury egg instead of an idiot dog.