Non-lucid, Lucid, [Commentary written while awake] I'm in the office building complex north of Disneyland. I'm there to be cast in a show or parade there. [I don't specifically remember becoming lucid, but I do remember being lucid.] I'm floating around up by the ceiling, which is a high ceiling, when the casting director walks into the room below me. When I see her enter, I float down so I can talk to her. "Hi," I say while descending. She says I've been cast in [whatever show or parade it was], and to go and change into my costume for the show. I head out of the building to do so. Outside the building, I stand on a stretch of grass that ends at the top of a concrete block wall, about twelve feet high, at the bottom of which is a sidewalk. I need to get down onto the sidewalk to get back to my car. I know I can do a controlled fall, so I do. I jump off the top of the wall, control my descent speed, and land easily on the sidewalk. When I get back to my car, I realize I don't have any underclothes with me, and I can't be in the performance without any. I realize I'll have to go to a Walmart or Target and buy new ones, but I don't even know where there is one around here. I decide to set off and go looking for one. I'm at a freeway onramp, on my bicycle, still on my way to find the nearest Target or Walmart. [Why am I on my bicycle and not in my car? I dunno.] The onramp runs next to a high, tan-colored wall. On this wall, about a quarter to a third of the way down the ramp, there is a traffic sign that reads "NO BICYCLES ON FREEWAY." I start bicycling down the ramp, but when I get to the sign, I read it, sigh, and say, "All right, fine. This is me, not riding my bicycle on the freeway." I get off my bike, turn around, walk it back up the onramp, and start looking for another route that doesn't involve taking the freeway.
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