In my dream, I was running a roleplaying game for a bunch of people, many of whom hadn't done tabletop RPGs before. It was at Neil Patrick Harris's house, and Nathan Fillion was there, who, it turned out, was a pretty experienced gamer himself (this may be based on reality -- I seem to remember some story of Fillion dropping into a pickup Firefly game at a con, and playing Wash. Apparently, the person playing Mal was kind of intimidated, but Fillion was really having fun with it, and got the person playing Mal to relax and have fun with it). I think Wil Wheaton was there, but that might be just because how could he not be? Or maybe Neil Patrick Harris was partially Wil Wheaton. Which would be kind of weird, but, still, a half Wil Wheaton half NPH person would be a pretty cool person to hang out with, anyway.
The kitchen cabinets were two stories tall, and filled with donuts, crullers, and other pastries.
Anyway, I was supposed to leave pretty early, because I had to go to Brandeis to meet
greenlily, I think, and it would be a two and a half hour walk. And I was running late, and there was no way I'd have made it, so I went up to Superman and asked if he could just give me a lift, because he could fly me there in just a few seconds. So he said he would, but, what people don't know about Superman is that he actually is a practical joker, but only to a couple of people, like Jimmy Olsen, and, sadly, me, so, instead of flying me to Brandeis, he put me into time stasis until four AM. When I realized what he'd done, I was kind of pissed, and told him that he'd better have at least told Jess that I wasn't coming so she wouldn't worry, and he said that he had, but that he'd made up some sort of really embarrassing story about why I wasn't there, because he was a jerk. Okay, fine, it was kind of funny, in a really jerky kind of way.
Anyway, NPH, who was possibly Wil Wheaton, or maybe my cousin Kim, was either still up, or had just been getting up, and it turned out that one of his dogs had died the week before, but he hadn't talked about it, so we talked about how much it sucks when a pet dies.
Some other stuff happened, too.
So, in the dream, I'd been doing all sorts of social stuff, then put into stasis, then had lots of emotionally draining conversations with people until the wee hours of the morning -- and, as far as my body was concerned, the several hours of stasis counted as "being awake" time, or, at best, that kind of nap that does more harm than good, so I was EXHAUSTED.
And then I woke up, after having slept soundly all night, and was exhausted.