It's always funny when Mom and I are downstairs and Katie and Jesse are upstairs. Pretty much every day, it's *THUMP* *SHRIEK* "Jesseeeeeee!" What are they doing up there, playing "furniture catch?" It sure sounds like it.
Last night, I dreamed that I was having a conversation with someone about something that had happened years ago, and the conversation was very vivid and coherent and sounded like what we'd probably say to each other anyway (except for some weird train metaphor). It was very satisfying, oddly enough, even though it was just a dream. Maybe my unconscious was tired of my subconscious dwelling on the past and just wanted closure, so it made up this discussion to pacify my curiosity. Though I missed my chance to "tell" the person he had made a huge mistake, and I hoped he would come to his senses and fix the situation, or he'd continue to be miserable for potentially a long time. Ah well.
So, today I'm going to attack the little nail-holes with spackle, maybe vacuum the rugs or convince someone else to do it since I hate vacuuming, continue arranging stuff, and so forth. Weee.