Go to the room where the needles are

    For some reason I was in New York state. Or somewhere up the eastern seaboard. And for some reason I was in a large, large group undergoing evaluations. Don't know what it was all about or even supposed to be about. Maybe the death panels finally started up.
    Everybody was very pleasant and the first stage was straightforward, or straightforward enough that I don't remember it. Anyway, none of my fellow evaluatees were upset. Then the official person told us that we needed to go next to the room where all the needles are. She was still pleasant, though, so I asked if she could maybe provide more detailed directions since none of us knew where that was. She laughed and led us there, still pleasantly.
    I woke before anybody could do anything with any needles and admit that by nightmare standards it isn't much, but I sure as hell couldn't get back to sleep. I did dig that I could hear the old-time radio playing in the waking world during the dream and everybody liked Kay Kyser there. Still, a return to nightmareland, however mild, tends to support my idea that GNC kelp is really a nice little dose of caffeine. But hell, I'll say it again: if it works, it works. It's certainly a nightmare that I can live with. Unless they get me with one of those needles.