Working out the details to give a publishing talk at the Marist Summer Writing Institute in August. Somehow that inspired this Matrix-like dream last night:

I'm at the Marist Writer's Institute participating in a discussion about publishing. I give my introduction. It's a good introduction. All of a sudden I'm hearing everyone on a five second delay. I'm the only one who seems to be having this problem. I start to panic. Finally _____ says she hears the delay too although she's the only one who admits to it. Then the delay goes away and its back to normal but I start to panic again. I yell "I'm still hooked up to the machine!" People try to calm me, tell me it's OK.

Then I wake and I discover that my head is wired to something, the machine, I suppose. There's little squares attached to my temples. I start to rip the cords off. Lex Luther (from Smallville) is there trying to hook my brain back to the machine. I attack him. Then I see a woman in a pretty dress. I'm angry because we were both promised dresses, but since I was hooked up to the machine, I probably missed my opportunity.