I don’t even really know what lacrosse is

I had another weird dream last night.

This time, Georgia Gov. Sonny Perdue had passed away unexpectedly, and this was bad for Augusta because he supported the local lacrosse team, which practiced in an historic building downtown that was so old it had to be protected by an outer building whose upper half was glass. Let me tell you, that was one cool-looking building–old-style green domes inside a dome made of triangles of glass held together by a metal frame.

(Apparently lacrosse was played on a racquetball court, in my dream.)

I started across a suspension bridge behind some guy I was working the story with. The bridge looked like the Augusta Canal in that there was grass and water on one side. “It’s bad for Augusta that we lose the support for lacrosse, but what really gets me is Sonny being gone,” I started to say…but the guy abruptly started sprinting across the bridge. I started sprinting too, and held a good pace for awhile, but then I couldn’t keep up no matter how hard I tried.

Ahead of me, the guy raised an American flag and kept pounding away at the same speed.

It was around this point I woke up and ran to the bathroom to throw up. It was 4 am.

(I think I’ve figured out the nausea. Allergies! Mucus! TMI!)