What’s up with these whacked-out dreams? Last night, I had this really freaky dream about being stalked. So I was in my dad’s old condo, getting ready to go swimming. It was like there were two versions of my dad there—one who was really desperately trying to get me to the pool a half an hour early, and one who was sleeping on the couch. So I go to the pool, and there’s a bunch of these bratty little kids there. Apparently, each time a new person comes to the pool, a person who was already there has to leave, so if I were to go in the pool, one of the little kids would have to leave. So instead of going to the pool (I hate kids anyway), I let the little bugger stay and went back to the house. I was feeling pretty good about the little good deed I did, and then suddenly I was riding my bike down a whole bunch of dirt and snow hills around Moscow. Pretty carelessly, as I recall. After a few minutes of this, I was downtown at the photography place. I went in there and seemed to know all the people. I was talking to this one guy for quite some time, then finally got my pictures and left. It was dark at this point, and I remember that I had taken the car to get the pictures (though I had really ridden my bike…WTF?). I go out into the parking lot behind the building and start looking for the car. It was then that I realized I couldn’t find it anywhere. I started to panic, then noticed that it was sitting off in a corner with the doors open. This really freaked me out and it was at this point that I started to get pretty paranoid. Just then, these two policemen came walking through the parking lot. I told them about the car, and they took their flashlights and we went over and started searching the car for anyone who may be inside of it. We checked everything at least fifty or so times—it was a very obsessive-compulsive dream. We’d open a door, shut it, then reopen it again just to make sure the “person” wasn’t hiding. Over, and over, and over again. That was basically the whole dream, us checking the damn car. What’s up with that? Anyway, after all that, the policemen sat in the car with me just to make sure it was safe. Then they shut the doors and grabbed me. It was then that I realized that they were the ones that were trying to kill me. Then I was in our house in the bathroom, talking to my mom on the phone. Apparently I got there safe somehow, but they were still trying to get me, cause all the doors were scratched up and there were big spider web cracks in the windows. So I was talking to my mom, all paranoid, telling her about the situation, and then I heard a phone ring. I thought this was weird (and scary!), cause we only had one phone. I said, “hold on a second,” into the phone, then I woke up. The phone was ringing.

What the crap kind of messed up dream was this? It was like Obsessive-Compulsive-O-Vision or something. With a lot of paranoia. Hm. Sounds like my life.