It had snowed about a foot while I was in the house but there was a snowless spot on the driveway where I had parked the van. Where’s my van? Panic!
Then I realized I was in a dream. But how could I get out of it? Am I trapped?
I became sufficiently conscious to know I was out of the dream and in my good old van, snug in bed with rain pattering on the roof. I relaxed—and drifted right back into the dream. Crap.
Now a friend from high school had set up an office in one of the bedrooms. He was renting the space. The owner came in and was mad I was there. I wanted to leave but, ergh, I couldn’t find the exit from the dream.
Thanks, subconscious, but I don’t need to be reminded how glad I am to not be a homeowner anymore, to be a mostly carefree nomad.