Being sick is never fun

Yesterday I was sick.  Not fun.  Not fun at all.  Nothing serious, just lots and lots of feeling shaky and nauseated and sore throatish.  Allen came over, which helped.  A lot.  

So, the night that I woke up sick, I had an odd dream:

Someone gave me an elaborate sari with turquoise beads.  We were in a shopping store.  Then a dragon with machine guns on his wings came and tried to blow stuff up and everyone screamed and the area was destroyed.   I had to run down a narrow hallway after some people with dust flying everywhere and gunshots going everywhere and I had barbeque sauce on my face.  Someone stole the black part of my Sari, only leaving the fancy turquoise part.  Then I hitched a ride on the back of a truck, which had a T.V. that was airing all the footage of the dragon and the destruction it caused.  There was gray dust flying everywhere, and it turned my blue Sari an ugly blue gray color.  The truck was bumpy, and everyone was crying.