You dream of -
You're working. You never fell asleep; you would never fall asleep. You're working. Mending, repairing, breaking down, reassembling, making, creating... working.
So far you have made fifty bombs, a spaceship, a particularly good coffee-machine, a rather imperfect sandwich, a chicken, a whole pen of mouseforged, a pen (to hold animal-machines), a pen (to write with), half-score bottled genies, one of them even more or less functional, although very rude, and on a special request you've mended a broken mask. That was a tough one, and something about the mask made you just itch behind your skin and under your nails and in the back of your eyes, but the payment was good. Currently you're working on a perfect rendition of the whole universe. You've managed the bright bits fairly well, but you're having trouble with the holes, and find yourself wishing you had Gravy to help you. He's good with holes. But unlike you, he's asleep. Everyone's asleep, even the mouseforged, everyone except you and the chicken.
"You're never going to get that right, you know," comments the chicken. It's been giving unhelpful comments like this all along. You don't want to recall all the atrocities it mentioned while you were working on the mask.
"It's not conductive at all. You don't have the proper tools, you don't even have the proper blueprints. And by this point, it's changing too fast and you won't manage to update it before it's all gone dark. You should focus on your quest. You should find the bound librarian. Sometimes, you don't need to know exactly how something is supposed to be in order to fix it. Just try harder, and remember to -"
The chicken makes a squeaky sound before going silent, and you deign it the briefest glance to notice that the annoying mad girl is holding it by the neck. "Sorry," she whispers, "It got away from me. Won't happen again; promise." And she steps back and away and leave you to your work.
While you looked away, though, the model became all mangled. You're going to have to start over...