I was living in a house right on the ocean. It was almost entirely glass, and I could see the water rising up the walls. Tidal waves would smash into the glass. A dead swan was pushed up against the house as was an orange octopus. Some girl came up to me and said, “I’m just looking for my dad’s coffin.” ‘Miah was there, and I introduced him to Zach and Tom.

I was in the kitchen when I suddenly remembered that I had a grey cat (that looked very much like Suzanne) to take care of, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had fed it. I knew that I had had two cans of cat food when I moved in and used one the first night. I called the cat and it came in typical cat-fashion, rubbing against the walls, chair legs, etc. I told the cat, “if you just made your presence known a little more often, maybe I wouldn’t forget to feed you.” I decided that I should feed the cat when I ate, and maybe then I wouldn’t forget. But that caused a problem since I don’t eat on a regular schedule all day.

I then started to panic over everything. ‘Miah called, asked what I doing, and I told him that I was having a panic attack. While I was trying to understand him on the phone (I couldn’t really make out too much of what he was saying as I was trying to feed the cat, which was a whole lot harder than it sounds), the water refused to shut off, I found old plates with chicken gravy, the cat food smelled horrid and nausated me, the cat ran away again, the floor swarmed with gnats from garbage that hadn’t been taken out, etc. Then ‘Miah told me that he quit his job. I asked why and he said, “Don’t know. Just did.” He was irritated with me because I kept asking him to repeat things, but I just couldn’t understand.

I made vaguely cryptic notes this morning after waking up, but I’m still not completely clear on all the details.

I was living at my grandpa’s house with my mom and Mari, and there was something about “leaving the house for the first time when Nightline comes on.” I was rinsing dust off the brown pants I rarely wear when a person from high school, long forgotten until I saw her picture again in the midst of packing, showed up.

I also told people (in a dream) about nightmares I had been having about eye charts. There were loud dogs outside and another psycho man running around and I just murmured, “I knew I didn’t want to live on the southwest side of town.”

My mother decorated my basement for me to “surprise” me, thus completely ruining any plans I had for the basement. I went downstairs and she had carpeted the walls and floor in berber, then handpainted bees, robots, and some Sid & Marty Krofft-lookin’ characters. It was interesting, and somewhat okay, but still entirely wrong.

My “father” (not really my dad, but perhaps my TV dad or something) was psychic and he told me that Amy (my long-dead Siamese cat from childhood) was going to die during a performance of Cyndi Lauper’s “She-Bop.” He wouldn’t be with me; he’d be in Los Angeles. Also, three guys I knew (I don’t know which three guys) would go to jail shortly afterwards. Dad and I were watching a musical variety show from the ’80s and “She-Bop” came on. I started crying hysterically, clinging to my father, remembering that he was supposed to be in LA when my cat died, so she was therefore still alive. I still was inconsolable. It happened to be a twenty-minute long performance too. When it was over, my dad and I were no longer on a couch, but in a classroom. The three guys had sawn a yellow music-room-style chair in half. I watched to see if they’d go to jail for it, thus fulfilling two parts of my father’s prophecy. They didn’t get in trouble at all, so I had to assume my cat was still okay.

Yesterday’s movie list included One, Two, Three, Stranger Than Paradise, and Charade. Only two of them had murders. Still, I dreamt that I had to shoot this girl’s parents in the stomach.

I don’t know if they were Erika or Olivia’s younger sisters, these girls lived in a very lovely house. Like Dexter, they had secret rooms. The youngest, who was quite ill, had a castle-like banquet room complete with medieval-themed decorations and over thirty feasting knights. The entrance to this was behind her bedside table. I was living in a basement and could hear a cat rubbing against my window, wanting out of the rain, but it was a cat that could somehow kill me if it got inside.

There was some other incredibly complicated dream that I can’t remember. At least watching Charade added some plot to my dreams; last night’s was a hell of a lot better than moving A-V equipment with Marlon Brando.

I got a bill for $788.54 from some bogus accounting firm, claiming they had to charge an “Apartment Refrigeration Tax.” I couldn’t decide whether to call the State Attorney or the media first.

I dreamt about going to many open houses and hating every single one of their decors.

My stomach’s all icky and I haven’t been sleeping well. No big surprise. I haven’t had any really remarkable dreams, but here’s a few I remember from the past two weeks.

***

I dreamt I opened my insurance statement and was responsible for $2,495.84 worth of charges. Of course, I was quite panicked. Then I read the top of the statement and it was for Sara Hollander. (I have never met a Sara Hollander, but she’s obviously quite sick, so be a bit kind to her.)

***

Jake was laying down somewhere, possibly in a wooded area on some mattress thingy. I kissed him on the cheek and he said, “You know I’m gay.” I told him that of course I knew, but this was going to break Stephanie’s heart.