Oct. 1st, 2003

phosfate: Ouroboros painting closeup (wotwla)
Odd sleep-related adventures. Dreams about Halloween killer Michael Meyers, Kevin Spacey as an annoying remora fanboy and conspiracy theorist, and for some reason miniature golf.

Wakened by Mom, who was wittering about how there must've been a power failure for a couple of hours because all the clocks said 5:11. Except her clock, which has a battery back-up and saved us from the sin of tardiness. Her theory lost credibility, unfortunately, when I pointed out that the dining-room clock read 5:11 and is entirely battery-powered. A quick call to the Official Bank Clock Time Guy confirmed that it was, in fact, 5:11 and that Mom had changed the time on her own clock rather than setting the alarm. I have a feeling this will be one of those things that we never speak of again.

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phosfate: Ouroboros painting closeup (Default)
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