It might have been the rain, or Sh's vomiting, or the 80s blasting, or Parker, I mean Maggie, moving in, or the exercise I did last night that gave me such vivid dreams.
The location morphed, as dreamscapes do, into this crazy Victorian house, with dark, wood-paneled staircases everywhere you looked, and junk in corners of the room. I went into a bathroom, and as I peed, I looked in the mirror opposite the toilet. Only it was a trick mirror, so I saw my ass instead of my face. Later on, in my dream, I learned that a certain man had gotten into making these kind of trick mirrors since we had broken up. He dated someone now who made these kind of mirrors too. I was happy for him.
There was a puppy I almost adopted from an old friend-turned-stranger, but I forgot the puppy at his house, and when I apologized and asked if I could drive back to get the puppy, he said my true colors had emerged, and I wasn't fit to parent.
The last dream I had before I woke up was that my facebook page had turned into the newest model.
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