Awake once again, life takes on the surreal quality of a dream. Is life indeed just a series of random, dissconnected events that we try to make some kind of sense of, or is it exactly what it seems?

Here's my latest dream:

8th and Blair, Eugene. I'm hungry; all I want is a burrito. Where Sweet Life should be , there is a row of run down restaurants. I walk in - it's absolutely filthy inside. The clientele are a surly bunch of homeless kids and mall rats. I think better of getting food there and walk out. Outside, I meet up with Chris Ross and he lets me ride his new invention - a bicycle that looks like a modified skateboard with two wheels on ski poles. It is exteremely hard to balance and I fall off. I walk across the street to meet Spirit. She's hanging out with Gordon Smith and his charming family. Spirit tells me that Senator Smith is going to be the new bass player for our band. It turns out he's really into Sabbath. I consider the possibility that my ex wife has turned Republican. Still hungry, I attempt to cross 6th Avenue; there's a train track on a bridge that runs over the street. It's very hard to climb over, with huge gaps directly over the racing traffic. I drop 1/2 an orange that I was eating onto the traffic below. Gordon Smith's charming wife shows me an easier way to get across using a ladder. I'm across and suddenly, I'm in my van, approaching an unknown mexican restaurant near an overgrown river bank. As if by telepathy, the woman inside the restaurant starts talking to me while I'm still approaching in my van. "You don't even have to get out.", she says, "You don't even have to order. We will serve you directly. If you would like us to, we will talk to you as if you were a woman. We will call you 'bitch'. We know what you like. " I get out of my van anyway. I am very hungry and just want to eat something. The restaurant is a diner-style burrito joint. The lady in the restaurant brings me an order even though I haven't asked for anything. It's a double burrito smothered in ravioli. She tells me it's $15.99 . I tell her this not what I wanted - I just want a burrito. Annoyed, the woman dumps half the plate into the garbage, fashions a very small burrito out of what is left and serves it to me. It's not what I want, but I eat it anyway. End of dream.