Common Cold Encourages New Superhero

I woke up Friday with a nasty headache and a sore throat, not to mention a few of the other symptoms that get bundled in the package known as the "common cold." So I stayed home from work and rested that day. When evening arrived, I received a message from my best friend that City of Heroes was having a 14-day free trial. "Hey, cool!" I said to myself (because I do talk to myself from time to time), "This just happens to coincide with Double XP Weekend! Not only that, but I've already reloaded my City of Heroes software, in anticipation of playing again possibly in a month or two!" (Sometimes I get really talkative)

Saturday morning arrived bright and early (that's 8:00 AM when you're sick, 5:30 when you're not), and I found myself in front of the computer, running updates on the client, which only took fifteen or so minutes, since I had previously run updates. After entering the trial code, I was up and playing. My new character, The Polonium Patrician, is a science blaster archetype, and quite possibly the fastest character I've ever taken up to security level 10. After a weekend of double xp, and another sick day, I had him up to security level 18, with mostly solo missions.

Today I'm still sick, but out of leave, so CoH will just have to wait until I get home, at which point the wife will probably want me to do some chores around the house (seeing as how I was well enough to go to work).

Strange Dream

The other night I had one of my strangest dreams ever. Well, in a long time, anyway.
Apparently, my brains were growing through a crack in my skull, and to remedy the problem, my best friend (who is not a doctor) had me lie down in my parents' driveway (at their old house), which is at an incline. This way the blood would flow downhill and not pool up under me while he was working. For some reason, he had to park a truck over me. Perhaps this was to keep birds from flying over and de-sanitizing his "clean room"--I really don't know.
After everything was laid out to his satisfaction, and I was ready (not even given a local anesthetic), he took out his dremel saw and commenced taking off the top of my skull. I remember bits of brain matter going into an aluminum dog food bowl that he had commandeered for the surgery. When the skullcap was off, he excused himself, stating that he had to go "bone up." I followed him to the carport, where he took out a medical journal and began to read. I was a little upset that he hadn't done this before the surgery, and it was about this point that my dream faded and I found myself lying in bed. The strangest part about dreams like this is when you wake up and can imagine little vestiges of the dream remaining. This time, I can remember feeling like there was a big empty space behind my forehead.
Analyze this, Freud!