What dreams are made of

I'm watching Dr Phil. Waiting for Oprah to come on. Finishing off my morning pot of espresso and feeling a bit twitchy from all the caffeine. It might have something to do with the fact that I also had a slice of suagary chocolate cake for breakfast.
Oh mother, if only you could see me now...

I had a very strange dream last night, quite obviously influenced by things I've watched on tv lately:

I started out being me, and for some unknown reason that seemed very logical, I had been named the sole caretaker for Michael Jackson's two eldest children. Being their guardian my main task was to protect them from something very harmful and non descript. The way I went about this protecting business was by playing a touch screen video game, oddly enough placed in a big "witch style" kettle. The objective of the game was to string together at least three of the same coloured balls and thus make them disappear. I'm not quite sure just in what way this provided safety for Michael Jackson's children, but it did.

Then, all of a sudden I was Harry Potter, or at least some times I was. I kept sort of morphing back and forth like it was going out of style, but no one around me seemed to think anything of it. I was at a beach, a beach that in reality is located in the Swedish village where I grew up. Located on a cliff on said beach I saw a kiosk, and in it was my older brother. Sitting in front of a mac computer (one of those chunky candy coloured ones from the early 2000's) he was handing out small pieces of paper with scrambled letters on them to random people and told me they were passwords to use the internet. This made me panic and I kept thinking, "But they're gonna come back tomorrow! Everyone is gonna know the password! They're gonna use up all our 5 giga bytes in no time, and then our internet connection is gonna be really slow for the rest of the month!"
And then I woke up, all sweat and panic.

My friend Sarah is leaving for a three month trip to Europe on Saturday, and I'm kind of sad about this. Sarah and I met when we were both working at a FCUK store last year, and she has become a very good friend. I will miss her very much while she's gone. Also I'm jealous of anyone who gets to be in any part of the world where it's summer while I am currently stuck in Melbourne, home of windy, rainy stupid winter in July.
But you know, I'm not bitter. Not at all.