Dream.

I just woke up from a dream directed by Baz Luhrmann. No, really. It's rapidly slipping away from me though, which is a shame because it was definitely one of the more cinematic third person, shot in HD dreams I've had in awhile.

It involved high school cafeterias, because I distinctly remember cheating the cafeteria's velvet rope policy about waiting until it was officially lunch time to allow everyone in. 

Also, more importantly and also more Baz Luhrmann-y, it involved TIME TRAVEL. Ooh, ahh. The only reason this is at all Baz Luhrman-y in any way is because at one point I found myself at the top of the Eiffel tower - not the real one, the Moulin Rouge version. Then, in a grand, sweeping camera maneuver - my dreams are usually very well photographed, but this one was particularly spectacular - we pulled away and to reveal that I wasn't on the top of the Eiffel tower at all! Rather, I had floated down to the middle of a half-completed Tour Eiffel because...oh my god...

...I had time traveled to Paris PRIOR to the completion of the tower. And then, in my moment of dream realization, I delivered this gripping line:

"The World's Fair hasn't even happened yet!"

Then I proceeded to stupidly ride the uncompleted Eiffel tower elevator, which was a huge mistake because it definitely broke and I careened backwards down the slanted elevator shaft only to fall through a mysterious wooden floor and have my face get all scarred and shredded and all of a sudden, Baz Luhrmann passes the baton to Anthony Minghella and I am The English Patient. Sweet. 

To which I ask...hey, subconscious? Uh...is something...bothering me? Am I perhaps afraid of adverse reactions to the chances I might choose to take?

And the answer, of course, is:

"Well, duh."

This wake up early when I don't have to no matter how late I go to bed business is for the birds.