Rose is a very sick woman.

She seems to have caught the 36-hour flu. I was supposed to get my Wednesday night massage. She wanted to show me her new moves. But she IM'd late yesterday afternoon saying that she was going to be sick (she meant that she was getting sick, cut her some slack, she's French). When I saw her last night at 6:10 she had just gotten home 10 seconds earlier. She had picked up some natural curative items like liquid echinacea and oscillosomethingorother. The plan was to take some, and "lie down for about 20 minutes or so." Yeah, right. I knew better.

I set about fixing her computer, then I went to the store to pick up some food (for me, pretty much. She never moved from that spot until 7 am this morning). I ate, finished with the computer and then fell asleep with her after talking for about two hours.

During this time, I guess around 4:30 am, I had a dream. My ex-boss, Sylvie had been in the dream doing lots of other things as well earlier. I figured that he had had enough of Corporate Canada and was trying out different things such as espionage, maitre'd-ing and gameshow hosting. Somehow, I'm watching all of this on "TV". It may not have actually been TV, but I was watching events as though it were.

Then I was watching a variety show or something hosted by The Tragically Hip. Elton John was the special guest. But the Hip wasn't the Hip. There was a keyboardist. It was Sylvie. And there were a couple of other guys from work in the band. Elton John says that they've created a new song for him and the Hip. I sounded like a Beach Boys rock tune. And the lead singer (for that song only) was none other than Sylvie.

At that point in the dream I decided that this was too fucked and I woke up.