![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
My creative stagnancy has been poked in the nuts by an hour of walking in circles around my dining room table talking to Stephan. Yes, life will be good when we get back to school. Even before that! We'll go to LA. It'll be amazing. :)
Oddly enough, I just remembered a dream I had last night. It was basically an episode of House. I ended up in the position of Cameron, I guess... It was at Shepherd, by the black couches. We (House and the ducklings) were discussing something, not sure what, with the customary sarcasm and razor-sharp banter, and he made a decision. The three of us looked at each other, and it was clear I'd got the duty that required I stay here at Shepherd, and Chase and Forman unhappily went out. Someone related to the discussion we'd had came through the main entrance, and approached us. I watched with a kind of detached surprise as he shot me four times: one in each kneecap, and the other two in random leg meat. I fell down, obviously, and had a surprisingly coherent discussion with House about what to do (I don't remember what we decided). Then, the shooter was randomly not there, and House was on the other side of Alice Pratt Brown Hall, so I walked carefully on my hands, legs dragging behind me but not in agony, which surprised me. House seemed to be hiding the fact that he was pleased and impressed by my uncomplaining progress.
It wasn't really a nightmare, as I wasn't scared at any point. I'm still not. It wasn't scary. Just odd.
Oddly enough, I just remembered a dream I had last night. It was basically an episode of House. I ended up in the position of Cameron, I guess... It was at Shepherd, by the black couches. We (House and the ducklings) were discussing something, not sure what, with the customary sarcasm and razor-sharp banter, and he made a decision. The three of us looked at each other, and it was clear I'd got the duty that required I stay here at Shepherd, and Chase and Forman unhappily went out. Someone related to the discussion we'd had came through the main entrance, and approached us. I watched with a kind of detached surprise as he shot me four times: one in each kneecap, and the other two in random leg meat. I fell down, obviously, and had a surprisingly coherent discussion with House about what to do (I don't remember what we decided). Then, the shooter was randomly not there, and House was on the other side of Alice Pratt Brown Hall, so I walked carefully on my hands, legs dragging behind me but not in agony, which surprised me. House seemed to be hiding the fact that he was pleased and impressed by my uncomplaining progress.
It wasn't really a nightmare, as I wasn't scared at any point. I'm still not. It wasn't scary. Just odd.