In the dream I was going to New Orleans to eat a sandwich. It seemed perfectly normal to do this. I rode a bicycle with ladders tied to the sides, longways. Cumbersome, sure, this also seemed like a perfectly normal thing to be doing. And New Orleans is only a couple of thousand miles away. The dream changed into some problem with my mother, who seemed to be a different woman than my actual mother and I had to keep squinting my eyes to see her, that was OK, too. I never got to New Orleans and I never ate the sandwich. Somewhere along the way I lost the bike with the ladders, in some endless shopping mall. And the problem with my new mother was never solved. Good morning. Did you sleep well?