My interpretation is this:
The mind is a computer, though a very unusual one by our conception of the term "computer". It's very good on human-dominated tasks like image recognition, approximate Traveling Salesman Problem and text generation. It is very poor at (conventional) computer-dominated tasks like arithmetic, recall of exact values, and long, repetitive operations on a single task (or at least I do). It's typically programmed declaratively (or at least I am), though modern society demands that you have the capacity to be programmed imperatively.
It runs an OS with a soft real-time kernel. This OS never fully shuts down in the long span from birth to death. This presents an obvious problem for updates, so instead, during a phase called "sleep", something above the kernel turns off most IO (ideally), shuts down all non-vital functions, and lets the mind wander through now-uninitialized memory. This traversal of uninitialized memory often manifests as a "dream" or "nightmare". During sleep, it compiles new versions of the kernel and its userland with the day's patches applied. When "waking up", the super-kernel hands off control to the main kernel.
The mind's architecture is such that is that it has a main CPU, but delegates many functions off to co-processors. The quirk here is that it is entirely possible for the co-processors to not communicate at all with the main CPU. This is good if these are the unconscious functions like heartbeat regulation, but detrimental when the co-processors in question relate to higher social functions like facial processing. This can lead to odd situations where a person can smile, entirely appropriately for the current situation, yet have no conscious control over it. (No, seriously, I experience this exact same thing all the time, it's getting weird)