Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and Gloria was restless. She was fidgeting around and I asked what was wrong. "It's this damn bug in the bed," she said.
I moved the covers and saw a little jumping bug and killed it. "Did you get them all?" she asked me. I realized that there were a half dozen of the things and crushed a few more.
"What on earth are those?" I asked, and she said she thought they were fleas. Inspecting a bug corpse, though, made it clear that they were some kind of crazy spider, and there were more of them still jumping.
To investigate the problem, I headed out into the courtyard of the place where we were staying. The bugs were everywhere, seemingly attracted to the three or four gigantic insect corpses in the courtyard. These dead bugs were about the size of cats. Then I remembered: Neil Young and I had killed them earlier in the day. I was staying at his place.
By now, Neil was aware of the problem and came outdoors and surveyed the scene. I asked if he had a power washer, and he said he did, so we got to work washing away the dead bugs, and then used a flamethrower to burn up the remaining spiders.
This was the second of the two dreams I had last night.
In the first one, there was going to be another hackathon in Oslo, and I was working out a way to get there. Just as plans started to come together, though, there was a major failure of the nationwide ATC system. All flights in and out of the United States were grounded, probably for the next six months.
I was really annoyed by this, and just starting to worry about how it would affect the overall economy when Martha cried and woke me up.
