I was talking with an old man with a bald head. He wore a saffron robe and was looking at the ground while talking. I couldn’t make out what he was saying although I knew I should. I kept leaning down farther to try and watch his lips but couldn’t get closer.

I dreamed that P. and I were living in a house similar to the one in which I grew up. As we laid down to go to sleep, I had a tentative urge to try floating above the bed. I rose up about a foot and gasped. I made sure P. was awake and asked if she was seeing it, which she was. She asked if I could do it again, which I did. There were a few items on a dresser across the room and I reached toward one and was struck dumb when it flew into my hand with a solid thump. I dropped it on the floor and tried with something else on the dresser which also worked without issue. I thought I’d be afraid, but I was excited and incredulous.

I was standing in front of a large diner-type building. I walked inside looking for someone – an unnamed old friend about whom I was concerned – but didn’t see her anywhere. A tired-looking woman walked up to me and said she’d be able to take care of me after she got off work if I was interested. I was afraid of offending her but passed on the offer, instead asking about my friend. She didn’t know anything. I asked her why she did it and she said that she had been making her real living by prostitution for years – the waitress job was just a front. I walked out of the back of the diner and kept looking. I found my friend sitting on a bench outside by a pond. She looked old and tired, but smiled when I told her that she didn’t have to do it anymore. I made some joke about her large shoe size to lighten the mood. She laughed a little and said she was really tired and fell asleep a moment after, sliding over and leaning on me. I put my arm around her and just sat there, wondering where we would go next.

I was navigating a jeep through a long obstacle course, comprised of different levels and with both inside and outside sections. At one point, the jeep was standing on one end grille touching the bottom of a wooden cage or tunnel that was the only means of traveling vertically between two sections of the course. People kept referring to me as the one who could avoid the water, and for some reason when we were walking I could float an inch or two in the air when we walked over ground that was dirty or hazardous. I didn’t particularly care for the conversation.

I was in some sort of cubicle farm on the edge of a brightly-lit city. There were a few people with me and we were visiting people who worked at some sort of technical support organization. Most of the people working there were young Japanese people, mostly female. They showed us their screens, which were largely devoted to convoluted 3-d puzzle games. Everyone had to stay quiet since the workers didn’t want to get caught by their bosses. Eventually we left and walked out of the front entrance into the nighttime. I think I dreamed this because I just finished reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

I and P. were working together on some sort of hit in a hotel. Due to some sort of unrest in the city, there were a few military people at the hotel and we were concerned about getting bagged. I found out that I could intercept text messages destined for the leader of the military unit in the building as well as send messages that his underlings would accept as coming from him. I told P. to go for a run outside on the walkways that spanned over the top of the hotel and dozens of other buildings. While she was gone, I saw myself following the unit leader as he walked down the hallway somewhere in the hotel. I was quickly scrolling through the messages that had come into him and the ones he had sent and crafted one that would get  our target killed and would give us time to get out of town before anyone noticed. From outside of myself, I saw up on the roofwalk that P. had returned from running and was walking around to cool down. After a moment she got in our car which was parked in the rooftop parking area. I didn’t witness our frame-up go down, but I had already checked out of the hotel and put our bags in the trunk. I walked quickly over to the car and we drove down the ramp and out into the street.

I walked into a eccentrically decorated house with eight sides. There was a ledge on the inside part with a rappelling line that went down into a lower level and I slid down there. I immediately freaked out when I knew there wasn’t a way back up. The lower level was very dark ,with only faint outlines of stuff in the room. I saw an ottoman with two knives or letter openers on it, but I couldn’t make up my mind to take them. I was getting really scared because of the darkness, even though I was pretty sure I was alone. I started running around trying to find a way out, throwing doors open and going in circles. Somehow I made it back on to the main floor, right at the entrance I had used. There was a guy outside who told me that he understood how tough it was, and that we had been through a lot together. The problem was I didn’t know the guy at all.

I dreamed that P. and I were on some sort of vacation with Beck. It was a tropical location and very pleasant. We lost Beck for awhile and found him sitting in a strange restaurant where the walls were lined with shelves of jeans for sale. He looked kind of dazed or brainwashed. I asked him what his plans were and he told me that he was going to live here. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t reach him.

I and some others were going from building to building in a town where I used to work looking for something. It was decided that I’d have to go into a restaurant on the main street and try to locate what we were searching for. I was given a really nice white/gray seersucker suit to change into, and immediately felt more comfortable. For some reason my head was no longer shaved and I had 70s-crime-drama hair – think Banacek or something like that. I was seated and talked to a lot of people. At some point, jon bon jovi (yeah – I have no idea) walked up and told me he was getting into a running-while-you-work program. I was baffled, but made congratulations. As he took off, I realized what I was looking for – company paychecks. He came back a short time later, dressed in running clothes and out of breath, carrying everyone’s paystubs. He handed them to me and took off again.

There were two or three of us constantly running from an unseen adversary that we would encounter while riding snowmobiles on long, snow-covered roads at night. We never saw our enemy up close – it was always a distant headlight or light on the edge of the horizon and it wasn’t clear if it was mechanical or a monster of some sort. We would turn and absolutely hurtle down the road to get away. The features of the road – the driveways, mailboxes, signs – would blur by soundlessly as we would drive and drive. We stopped somewhere and spoke to other friends, hatching some half-ass plan to finally either conquer or permanently evade the enemy we couldn’t shake. I was then out alone on the same stretch of desolate road as before. I saw the light in the distance and turned around. I sped up as far as I dared and followed the now-familiar turns of the road. I started to lose control when I became distracted for a moment, but saved it at the last minute. I took a different turn and ended up on a tarred road between an apartment complex and a strip of stores and restaurants. I knew I had to get the machine off the asphalt, since I’d get bagged by the cops if I was seen. I found a turnaround and started to get back where I needed to go.