Just had one of those fallen-hard-asleep weird dreams that was getting progressively less pleasant and picking up speed towards nightmare territory. Luckily I woke up (but now I'm staying awake long enough for the brain to re-set so I don't just fall back into it as I sometimes do hence the late night blogging) but after a part where I was trying to get back somewhere (and being thwarted (cancelled flights, flooded roads complete with "drive here signs" that led into deep rushing water and resulted in floating cars, though also very apologetic valet service by the road traffic/car hire folks) I got to where I was going (a big old house partly under construction) where I was either daughter of the house or head of security or both and the patriarch of the place was under threat (not sure who that was).
An unpleasant someone was outside with some sort of big gun but I was fairly sure I could outsmart them. But the (only) very amusing part is, they had accomplices inside, who I'd just uncovered and the message the shooter was telling them to pass on to lure the patriarch out (transmitted via some sort of steam punkish ticker tape machine) was "Tell him the latest Pratchett is out in Omaha". To which I replied "Oh for God's sake, he already HAS the latest Pratchett!"*laughs and laughs and laughs* At which point I woke up.
So yes, my subconcious is weird (or wine and popcorn and Mamma Mia followed by Diana Wynne Jones don't mix or the thunderstorm outside is messing up the ether or I'm about to write a steampunk western set in Nebraska (the mind boggles)) but at least the people populating it have good taste in reading material! I'm still laughing.
And now, back to bed.