A couple of silly "computer" dreams--yesterday (in RL), I sent an email to someone and had it returned to me, as the domain didn't exist (was actually in the process of being transferred). In the dream, when I "trashed" the email, as I actually did, thinking I'd re-send it later, I actually threw it into a physical trash can.

I got worried about it later, as there were other things in the package (it was in a Fed Ex box), and since it was only about an hour after work, and the cleaning people wouldn't have emptied the trash yet (actually, they probably would have), I decided to go back to work and retrieve it.

In another dream, I'd been thinking about buying and iMac wagon at the toy store, but couldn't decide whether to spend the money or not. I finally decided to go ahead and get it, on the spur of the moment, but I had a hard time getting to the store.

I was going to drive through a gas station to get there, but the gas station had been converted to a school--a small school with a big Amoco sign in the front yard . . . the driveways had been blocked off with yellow flags, and I had to back up and go another way.

When I got to the store, I had to climb up a ladder to get to the front door, and it was hanging off on one side, so very dangerous, but I was able to hoist myself up and get through the doorway without falling off the front of the building.

Once inside, I was stopped by a salesman who wanted to tell me a story about a little boy. He (the salesman) had known this boy for awhile, as his family bought all their toys there. The boy was very good at taking baths, and he had picked out his own bath things there, including a bath mat in royal purple, which the salesman was quite proud of.

But the boy had backslided for some reason, deciding he didn't really like to take baths anymore, even to the point of throwing away the bath mat. The salesman just shook his head.

I finally reached the iMac wagons, and I picked up a box and paid for it and went out to the parking lot, only then realizing that I hadn't really thought about which color to get, tangerine or blueberry. I had picked up the tangerine one (this wagon also came with a miniature iMac, a toy, I assumed, but cool nonetheless). I kept thinking I should have gotten the blueberry one because it was more "classic," then I decided that since I had the graphite one at home (which in my dream was more of a brownish color), then the tangerine one was probably the right one, since it was a little more offbeat.

When I got to the parking lot, there was something sliding across it, a car part of some kind, maybe a hood--white--and I had to maneuver my car around quickly so that the hood didn't hit it, and also that I didn't run over it.

Quite an eventful day.

I was working someplace new, my first day. It was a big, open room, everyone in one room. The desks were all shoved together, and someone showed me mine--it was covered in dust, and stuff lying all over it. There were scores of pens and pencils, and I thought that the first thing I would do would be to pick them up; maybe I could bring in one of my willa.com mugs to use.

I was taken around and introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pleasant, and there were even a couple of women that I had worked with a long time ago, one of whom got up and gave me a hug.

Then I was sort of left alone, and it sounded like the managers were all going to go out to lunch together. I decided I'd clean up my desk, and started gathering the pens and pencils up. There was also a package of tiny nails on my desk, and as I cleaned up, I knocked the package, and all the nails spilled out.

I scooped them into a drawer, deciding that I'd deal with them later.

And then I looked around and realized that I probably wasn't going to have time to go to lunch, because the lunch hour was nearly over and I had to be in a meeting right afterwards. Oh well.

Then there was something later about being in a house, and either being a foreign exchange student or knowing that there was one there with me, but we were going to visit someone else, and that someone had met either me or the exchange student, and they would know that we weren't who we professed to be . . . all quite confusing. I was trying to figure out if I could fake it, but I was pretty sure I couldn't.

There was also a bathroom with a swinging door right off the kitchen; I thought I'd rather go find one upstairs with a regular door that someone couldn't walk right into. And there were bicycles that I was draping some sort of fabric over, and it was very important that I get it right.