Jason (jcreed) wrote,

Dream: the late Wesley Willis's house was down the street, so I snuck into it and played his keyboard. After I left the house some woman (surviving relative of his?) berated me for not getting in touch with her earlier, making the assumption that I actually knew him and hadn't just entered the house illegitimately. Woke up.

It's getting cold in the mornings now. Suckity suck. At least it makes a hot shower feel really good. But I need to get around to actually washing my comforter, since it was used as a Flagstaff-hill-movie-blanket. Other laundry ought to be done, too.

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