the other night in the tub, i fell asleep and dreamt of blood and grease. black, thick grease. it was odd.

last night, my dream was post-apocalyptic. this time after a massive worldwide war that destroyed nearly everything. there were groups of people that had survived and teamed up for protection against other groups and to help them acquire food, etc. tom cruise was sort of the leader of the group i was in. i was some sort of spy/assassin, and i got captured by another group and tortured for a while, but tom cruise + my group rescued me. that was nice. it was weird, though. tom cruise was also very tall in my dream. we were all very dirty, and the air smelled bad. like electricity. like the air smells after lightning has just struck very nearby. or after you've burnt plastic.

all of us were married. we had kids. even me. i had two sons. i don't know who i was married to, but my sons were three years apart. all of us still hung out together regularly, and our children played together.

fast forward. we were older. our kids were growing up. two of them even got married, but i don't know from which families they came. something happened, but i don't remember what.

fast forward again. we were really old, and near some body of water on the beach. the families had rented out a string of cabins. our kids were grown, and their kids were playing. even some great grandchildren were around. i was sitting in a beach chair with a big, floppy hat on and musing that they needed to make big, floppy hats for old ladies that had no brims on the back, so we could keep the sun off of our faces but still lean back in the chair. bigger brims than visors offer, i mean. katie was in a chair next to me. she was still thin but had old lady paunch. we were wearing old lady beach clothes. it was funny to me. there was an empty chair with a box on it. some of us had died, and that chair and box was there for them. so they were still with us. katie turned and looked at me and said, "it's been a good life."

then i woke up.