Dream from last night:

There was a party in my house and all of the neighbors were invited (note: you have no idea how unlikely this is to happen). My house was transformed–had cathedral ceilings with bookcases up the walls. There was a ladder up the bookcase. The woman from up the road was there and asking me weird questions, except I wasn’t annoyed by her.

I decided that I would climb the ladder because I wanted to walk along the tiny railing above the bookshelves. Everyone decided to follow me but the ladder was shaky and I had to hold onto the railing. It all seemed very precarious, verging on the slapstick.

Then the dream transformed into something with a serial killer who was stalking me which is mostly too disturbing for me to repeat, except for the part where I begged Allen to let me buy a new gun but he refused. He said, “We already have my Colt 45 and you have yours so we don’t need another.” (note: we don’t really have guns. I don’t think Allen’s even ever touched a gun. I have though I would never want to own one.)

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