Last night I slept eight and a half hours -- I haven't done that in months, maybe a year. So many dreams, but I only managed to fix two events in my mind that survived the day:
* a racetrack race of different vehicles, each with a different power source. There was nuclear, there was electrical, there was petrol, there was steam. My vehicle was the last, powered by muscle; a rickshaw pulled by two beautiful women in cavalry uniforms with impractical high-heels.
* I wake from my bed, and the the young green-skinned servant rises from her sleeping cushions in the corner. "Don't forget have to go to her," she says, trying to keep disappointment out of her voice. I pick her up in my arms, and to her surprise carry her back to my own bed, where I cuddle her instead of going to my appointment.