Two things about dreams:
1) I often have post-apocalyptic dreams where I have to figure out what to do with my cat. Daisy is an indoor cat, so she’s never just out exploring when the post-apocalypse hits, and I can’t just set her free. So do I take her with me and leave her in a cage all the time and struggle to feed her, or see how she does on her own? It’s upsetting.
2) I had a dream last night where that happened (it wasn’t really post-apocalyptic- it was just really, really hot and for some reason we all had to get to the 8th floor, even though I live in New Hampshire). But I also had a dream where I was waiting to see a therapist. I was there for an appointment but Diddy came in so I had to wait. My therapist (I don’t really have one. I think it was Tina Fey in the dream. Or I was Tina Fey) had Diddy’s gold pressing machine in her office, so I started making all this shit out of gold. Like a pen that had some sort of joke about Diddy in it, and then this toilet seat thing, and maybe like a placard with my therapist’s name on it.