A nightmare is a road trip with your mom

Friday, the 2nd-No word on work possiblities and I'm still keeping an eye on Christian's place. Today the cleaning lady came and I couldn't find the parking permit anywhere. In which case we usually just move Christian's car out of the garage so she can park. Well, that would work if the car worked. It was dead. And so it turns out that she had to park in a neighbor's spot with a note in case the neighbor came home and wanted to park. It was pretty funny, looking for the parking permit. There were 5 grocery bags full of paper and mail and such that I went through to find the permit, which turned out to be at Burning Man with Christian. I actually organized the mail and paper and had to put them in catagories by year, 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2004, and 2005. And this is not even all of the piles of paper that were laying around here. At one point, I found his tax return from the year 2000. I also found unopened mail from 1999. So there was quite a bit of paper to sift through. I hope he doesn't mind, but I just couldn't help myself. I did find it ironic that there was a flyer from a company that organizes your home for you. Heck, I'd do it for free because I'm insane. And speaking of insane, I had a dream later that night where I was in a van with my mother and my "brother", Michael, who was someone who I'd never met before. It was night and we were driving down a road that had a rocky cliff to one side of the road that fell down to the coast, and at one point we tried to manuver like we were in a Hummer over some very large boulders. We eventually got to a seedy hotel and there were people there with axes who were attacking other people. They seemed like normal, non-zombie-like people, just homicidal. They surrounded me. One of the homicidal axe-wielding people, a young girl with short brown hair in what looked like a flannel nightgown, turned to one of the other homicidal axe-wielding people and said, "If this is hell, I like it." Which was incredibly creepy. My "brother" Michael then grabbed me and said that my left side was paralyzed. I repeated it, screaming. And then I woke up, I think, trying to scream, "My left!" But it probably came out more like a moan. And while it may have woken me up it wasn't nearly loud enough to wake up Daryl, who was sound asleep the whole time. I even told him I had had a bad dream and he said not to feel scared because he would protect me. Later on, when we were both awake he had no memory of that conversation. And I think the moral of the story here is to not go on road trips with your mother in a van along the coastline because you may end up the victim of a group of homicidal axe-wielding people.