My Work is infecting my dreams

Had a strange dream Monday night where I was in some largish, darkly-lit meeting room (almost like the business casual equivalent of an opium lounge conference room) with Brandon Whichard eating dried edamame.

A continually morphing character of Steve Mills/Sam Palmisano came into the room. Brandon and he started talking about programming in Java, as I recall.

After awhile, I was chided by Mills/Palmisano for not jumping into the conversation and taking advantage of him being there.

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