I just recalled another dream where Jobo, Wanki and I were in Vancouver or something. We went to this huge ass supermarket and bought a cart full of stuff each. We pushed everything out to the parking garage and I was apparently driving a Prius. We tossed everything into the trunk and I went to pay for parking but they were like "oh you can't pay here, you need to get a stamp first or pay at the other counter". I didn't want the hassle. $224 for parking? You're shitting me.
I'm gonna find that damn stamp. Or go to the other counter.
We're all loaded up and ready to go. It's one of those dimly lit streets and suddenly we're not driving anymore. We sitting on top of some scaffolding about 10-storeys up with nothing around to protect us if we should fall. The piece of wired cement we're sitting on is starting to teeter. Oh snap. We're trying to keep all three of our weights balanced on this piece of island but we're losing it. I'm grabbing onto the edge for dear life but Jobo is leaning forward. Why? I watch in slow-mo as she topples over the side, headfirst into the cargo shipping containers below. It makes a loud THWACK. I look down in terror realizing my friend just went over and it wasn't good.
Eerily, after looking extremely discombobulated, limbs twisted in all directions (but no blood), she sits up. Wanki and I look down from our perch. How did she survive that? What's going on?
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