A typical restaurant dream with all its standard chaoas. A lucid moment arrives with the thought, "Whatever I do doesn't matter." I test my hypothesis by mentally altering the sign on the Marqui. After, I slip deep into a smooth, tapered hole. "This is not what I should be doing," I conclude. Somehow, I escape and fly away. My flight brings me to a little girl's room.. She is about 6 or 7. I fly around and she follows me. I ask, "Are you real and I am a ghost?" A ghost!" she repeats playfully. I think to myself that it is my responsibility to give her some advice. I mutter some platitudes about compassion and take off through the window.