Live Your Dreams...or Not Whichever.

Moving stress dream from last night. 

 As I still do not have a signed lease, I dreamed that I went to Miami to have the landlord sign the lease. 

When I arrived at the highrise apartment building (which I'm not living in in real life--still waiting for the final word on the second story of that 2 story), I was taken to the 5th floor.  The door to my apartment, #504, was wide open.  I went inside. There was furniture everywhere, but it seemed as though there had been some sort of struggle.  Things were thrown about.  Upon closer inspection, it seemed that some sort of old lady had been living there.  Everything was floral and lace. I wandered about the apartment looking for some sign of what was going on, hoping the landlord would be there, so he could explain.  I went into the bedroom, and someone was in the bed.  They appeared to be asleep, but as I got closer, it was clear that wasn't the case.  The man was full of bullet holes and there was blood everywhere.  He'd also been decapitated.  I screamed and rushed out of the apartment and down to the lobby's front desk.  When I got to the lobby, there was a very long line to the front desk.  I tried to explain that clearly my issue took priority, but no one would let me ahead in line, so I waited...and waited...and waited.  I finally got to the desk and explained what was going on.  The manager said that he'd try to phone the landlord.  He couldn't get through.  I explained that I needed somewhere to live, and I wouldn't be able to live in a crime scene, so they'd need to find another apartment for me.  He set me off with a master key to look for an open apartment.  

I soon remembered that my friend, Paul, lived in the same building, so I started to search for him.  Every door I came to wouldn't open, until I got to the 9th floor, and I found a friend of Paul.  He told me that Paul was on the 11th floor, and that he (the friend) would be happy to show me his place, so I'd know what his floor plan was like.  I got inside and it was a loft, but with a second story.  I knew that it was out of my price range, and I started to cry.  The friend walked me to Paul, and I found that his apartment was also a loft with a second story.  I asked whether any of the other apartments in the building that were in my price range were currently unoccupied, and that is when they explained the situation to me.  

There had been a number of murders in the building recently.  There was a gang of rogue children and teenagers who were a part of a cult living there.  The "good people" of the building had been trying to force them out, but to no avail, and they wanted to know if I'd be willing to help them, in order to get an apartment that was within my budget.  I agreed.  From that point, things get a bit fuzzy, but I was trying to infiltrate their cult in order to trick them into leaving the building.  Oddly, Jocelyn had been doing the same thing, though I wasn't sure I trusted whether she was on my team or theirs.  She seemed well intentioned but it was hard to know for certain.

In the end, I was able to get the original apartment with the crime scene, but someone hadn't yet taken away the severed head.  I insisted that with my weak stomach, I would not be able to live in an apartment with a severed head, so someone would need to take it out of there straight away.  No one else could understand why this was a problem for me.

The moral of this story is that Strawberry Fields cereal and Law and Order before bed during times of extreme stress are a dangerous combination...