I have been cleaning the used shop like a fiend. Cleaning gives me a sense of structure in a chaotic world. Our used shop was steeped in chaos for a while there–we are, after all, opening two new shops and storage space is at a premium. I often think I’m She-ra when I clean, able, still, to lift small elephants in a single bound. (That’s wrong, isn’t it?) My back (and sometimes my knee) pays the price.

When I take any form of anti-pain pill with the added knockout benefit (Advil PM, for example), I remember my dreams more vividly or maybe, my dreams are just more vivid. Last night, I had a dream that I was a pregnant Buffy, and while I was away (I don’t know where), Angel had amassed an army of super-freaks in my cellar (the actual cellar of the home in which I grew up). He had fallen in love with a woman (super powers unknown) named Vanessa, and they were planning on raising my baby as their own. With a collection of the super-freaks, they  were down in the cellar perusing a baby name book, and I was flicking the lights on and off, yelling, “I already have names!”

The dream continued. Became more like a Joss Whedon episode.

I woke up thinking about dream sequences in books or books where dreams play a heave role. Who has gotten it right? Who has not made it another trite Brady Bunch dream-back? A penny for your dream sequence?

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