There were these canoe or kayaking trips I went on with the Outing Club or whatever, and one of the recurring trips had a put-in point where we had to carry our gear through a tunnel to get between the parking lot and the river.

As I was going back and forth through the tunnels they became more and more complex. Or at least I became more aware of different side-tunnels. Meanwhile I was thinking that maybe it was time for me to buy my own wetsuit, and there was some party going on the river side of the hill at which someone was riding around sideways on a motorcycle that was also a guitar. I didn't get a real good look at the motorcycle rider but thought it might have been Shaina or someone else that I knew.

I started chatting with someone else who was also hauling gear back and forth and they offered to show me something interesting. We took a different turn which led to a back way into a large room of what felt like a 19th-century factory. Or rather, a secret passage that we could have exited to be in that factory room, but the passage led to more passages between different rooms. It was this complex network of secret passages that seemed to connect rooms from many different buildings.

I was observing someone, not necessarily myself, in a brightly-lit (by sunshine through a window) room several stories above groundlevel. Sara was there with Marilla, and had been for a while, just doing boring mom stuff. Probably a lot of pumping. The window was made of many panels separated by wooden framing, and was too tall for the wall it was on. To account for this, it was scrunched up. The panes of glass could collapse down to nothing between the frames. The explorer found that the framing could be pushed outward a bit to make room for more panes to be opened, and after doing that for a few panes, wondered what the limits were. Could they just keep popping the window outward until all the panes were fully open? I didn't stick around this part of the dream long enough to find out.

Then I was working and/or playing Mindustry in this 50-foot-tall wall-like structure along the north edge of Lake Monona, just west of the Monona Terrace park. There were at least 3 different paths along the wall--one in front, one behind, and at least one snaking through the middle, sometimes connecting to the others. That middle path may have evolved out of an attempt to implement my usual pattern of conveyor belts for bringing ingredients into Mindustry factories, something about install solar panels, and maybe also fighting something at work, which was all a bit stressful and from which I wanted to get away for a bit, so I was walking westward and up along this middle path to a Starbucks where I would meet Sara for lunch. Towards this end, the path rose up into a place where a line perpendicular to the wall would pass straight through without touching it, so I could see out both sides (the structure was similarly hollow throughout, but in other parts layers overlapped in a way that blocked line-of-sight across the wall, which had been good for sneaking-around, trying to stay out of sight of the nebulous adversary that made everything I was working on more stressful).

I met Sara in a small sit-down area with stools and a counter at which you could order food and coffee that I called a Starbucks earlier, but maybe that's just because I brought in my pocket a couple of Starbursts, one of which I gave to Sara, and one which I ate. I was trying to tell Sara that these starbursts were a metaphor for something we were going through, which was also like playing a multiplayer online video game, where you were playing different games, but also the same game, and this was like the Starbursts because we were having different flavors but yet both having Starbursts.

I got some fries, maybe Sara's leftovers, because they were kind of cold and not as good as they would have been fresh, but still worth eating. I got ketchup and what I thought was barbeque sauce from a dispenser at the counter but then after we had walked to a different part of this structure realized that I had gotten ketchup and some red salad dressing. But I managed to find my way to some actual barbeque sauce and ate my fries with that, and it was good.

Back at work, I was helping Cheryl figure out a problem with a text file. It was some text-based format like markdown or YAML with complex and somewhat ambiguous parsing rules (I had to hold back from going on a diatribe against such formats, because Cheryl would not understand half of it or care), and this file was screwed up in such a way that the rendered output had a bunch of text squished over on the right side with some stuff about Vietnam overlapping some other text. I woke up thinking about the guy from Forrest Gump yelling about "Viet-fucking-nam".