ribble's Dream

Last night, I passed out on the couch while trying to watch election returns. All the lights were on, and my roommate came in to turn them off and generally try to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Richard," she said, "all the lights are on."

I apparently responded by muttering a string of obscenities, more directed at myself than anyone else.

She started turning the lights off.

"They're working," I said.

"Well, I'm turning them off," she said.

"No," I said. "I mean I think they're working in this scene."

At this point my roommate decided that I was spouting gibberish, turned off the lights, and decided, quite sensibly, to leave the room.

Here's what I thought was happening: last night, I dreamed that someone was making a movie in my apartment.

I don't remember much, but I do remember either red and blue boxes or very boxy red and blue clothes. Also, one of the setups was on the roof.

I didn't quite know what my job was on this film, so I remember spending most of the dream sitting on the couch, feeling distressed, and trying to figure out just what my responsibility was.