why I am awake at this hour

I keep waking up from these dreams. The last one shook me violently. I dreamt I was traversing the country. I was with these men, men I had never met before, and we were about to commit a crime. I think we were in Tacoma, Washington. Or was it Shelton or some kind of combination of both? I had a tiny, tiny apartment there that reminded me of my dorm in college, except it was very messy, which is unlike me. So, I was with these men, and we parked in front of this building where the crime was to take place, and they told me to lay completely still in the car until they got back. I suppose I was a lookout, but than why I was just to be a heap in the car? When they did come back, we rushed off to their cries of "Go go go", through the crowded streets of the city, and unknown assailants were shooting at us. I was shot, straight through the hand, yet it was a tiny wound, like one of my paper cuts from work. After all this happened, I was alone again, and wandered around the streets of downtown Tacoma/Shelton and thought about the pain in my hand and how in heavens I was going to pay to see a doctor. Oh yeah, I had all those overdue movies due to the library, I need to go to the library too. I returned to my tiny, clustered room and I realized how unhappy I was there. Suddenly, a vision of the delights of Seattle beckoned to me. I saw myself ascending a narrow, creaking wooden staircase in an old house. I knew I would be content there. Oh, contentedness at last. Is there such a thing?