In Dallas on a (hopefully brief) flight delay. On the plane from PDX I was working on Green. I stopped at one point and closed my eyes, in response to a quick wave of fatigue. (Stuff like that happens when you get up at 3:00 am to go traveling.) I then began writing again, typing away, but the words hitting the page were not making much sense. I'd totally lost the thread of the novel. I started to get pissed about all the rework I was going to make for myself.
The I woke up.
I don't think I've ever dreamed I was writing, at least not so literally of the physical process.