Last night I had a dream that I was driving home and for some reason I no money and no gas and Steve had no money, no gas, and we barely made it home. When we got home we lived in, well, it was just a room about the size of a dorm room, and there were papers and trash and knick knacks and things all over and we all slept on bunk beds along the sides of the wall. We all lived in that one room which was part of some type of apartment house, on about the 10th floor. I walked in and said "I'm not living here!" I took all the trash and just threw it out of the "house" and the few things that were worth anything, I amassed in front of the front door. "I'm moving," I said. "I can't live here anymore." When I piled the stuff in front of the door I realized it wasn't worth much and whoever wanted to walk along and take them, I just didn't care, I didn't want the stuff, it was junk. I wanted my kids out of there. I said to myself I didn't care what I had to do, I was going to live somewhere else. So people came along and I said, "here, take a candle, take this brass figure or whatever, take that, I just don't want this stuff, I want to travel light, I just don't like 'stuff' ". Then a while later I was lying in a bed somewhere. I was watching a clock and I realized that I had some kind of credit card with about a zillion percent interest. The clock counted a nickel for something like every five seconds that passed, so I just laid in bed and counted the interest payment I was accruing on that credit card, listening to the dollars tick up, tick tick tick.