There were backup copies of Bedhead and Moses in an attic and I had forgotten to feed them, so Bedhead died. I was looking at the two of them sitting on a small towel–Moses was piteously skinny, and Bedhead’s body was twitching with her death throes. As it twitched, her skin slipped off her body, and there was a little pile of guinea pig skin on one side and her white, vaguely sticky-looking skinned carcass on the other. I had to pick her up and dispose of her, but I didn’t want to touch her and the towel seemed too small to pick up by the corners without touching her body.

I kept looking at my watch and thinking it was late at night–1 AM, I tried to go back to sleep–but eventually, at around 2, I woke up and thought it was awfully sunny for it being late at night. I was in Sunnyvale; I walked out to the front driveway, where our butler was standing there sweeping. He looked like a taller, skinnier version of Steve Martin. I asked, and he said it was indeed 2 PM. I asked where Rahul was, and he said he was out with his dad. I followed him back inside the house and I went to get my pills out. For some reason, there were two sheets of pills in my pill envelope, and the pills had been taken erratically–only every two or three had been taken, and I had no idea which one I should take next. I put two peach-colored pills in my mouth and sat there staring at the sheets wondering which one to spit out, or if it mattered.

Apparently this was another night I was moaning and whimpering in my sleep.

I was going to a formal high school reunion dance and my date was Matt A. He said he was no longer going out with Pei. There was a convertible car that served as a shuttle to take us to/from the parking lot. There was steep, steep scenery. Later in the dream, after going to the car, I was with Molly and I had to find clothing in some people’s house. The people were Italian and I spoke Italian to them.

I was pregnant with triplets. I gave birth fairly painlessly to two of the babies, but the third one wasn’t coming.

I was standing by a hedgerow–defined by Darragh yesterday as “a mass of impenetrable thorns”–when a clock struck the hour–let’s call it two, though I don’t remember exactly what it was. A mass of people gathered behind me and I realized I had to start squeezing my way through the hedgerow because an old prophecy said that anyone not playing at two o’clock would die. The thorns squeezed in tightly around me and I had to turn my head to press it through one small thorny space.

Once through, I walked up a set of stone steps to the left and found myself in a castle hallway with Paul. He said the castle was a finite space, and if you walked too far to one side, you’d find yourself walking back in the other side.