So I briefly nodded off as I was monitoring a deposition by phone this afternoon. That in and of itself is not unusual; what was strange was what happened next.
I found myself in the Moroccan desert, something out of The Sheltering Sky, except instead of Port and Kit Moresby or even John Malkovich and Debra Winger there was Scott and Kim and they looked really really weird and were with some old dude and they were trying to sell me bad acid.
That's the last time I have Ethiopian for lunch.
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