The good news: the property is Washington has been sold, and I no longer have to deal with that mess. Woohoo! My nephew's still here, and I'm still paying the rent on my sister's storage unit in Washington, but that's it. Although... she's going to be in for a shock when she gets out of prison and I inform her she owes me $24,000. I fully expect her to ask for money. She's not going to get any.
I've been having some odd dreams lately. Last week, I dreamt I was in Bangkok with a group of people who were effectively kidnapping children to bring back to the United States -- children who had been forced into prostitution. Bringing them here was an effort to free them from slavery and help them find a new start.
Another odd dream was the knock on the door, behind which were Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Apparently they were having problems, and picked some random person out of the book to talk to. In my dream, I got to experience the joy of standing on my living room while Brad and Angelina yelled at one another.
Last night, something odd... my nephew somehow broke his back and ended up in a wheelchair. Oddly, the doctor told him it'd be seven years before he'd walk again. I remember calling around to find some sort of organization I could put him in, to help him cope with the fact that he could no longer walk... and being pissed off that I was going to be stuck with taking care of him for the next seven years.
It's interesting to be dreaming again. For the longest time, I stopped dreaming altogether. I've been told that I was dreaming, I just couldn't remember. But I honestly can't remember a time I couldn't recall my dreams -- or, at least, that I had been dreaming (even if I couldn't remember the content). It's been months since I even remember dreaming. Now all of the sudden I'm counselling actors, and rescuing children from sexual slavery. What's up with that?
