This will not make much sense (and having no paragraphs helps that):

It was such an odd dream. I can only remember it in snippets. Dylan following me home one day, me completely unaware...In no town I've ever been in. I had stolen two axes from a firetruck at a crash scene because some crazed insurance saleman had purposely ran into one of his clients for some reason or another, and I THINK Dylan had been hanging around watching the scene, and happened to see me. He kept calling me, and I pretended to ignore him, just to see if it would irritate him. I ran (the axes gone now, no idea where) to this brick townhouse, in the front door. The main floor of it was some sort of art gallery, and my apartment/room was in the basement, where I kept all these statue things I was working on. The game was to hide from him, so I ran down the back stairs into my apartment, and locked the door. There was something I didn't want him to see...I didn't want him to see me the way I was...which was odd, because I don't remember anything being different at all. There were lilacs growing in a corner of the room, and it was messy, because of all my projects. Anyway, he suddenly comes in the back door of the apartment and knocks over all these statues that I had just finished arranging...OH! And there were suddenly these two creepy ex girlfriends of his there in the basement, and they were all yelling at me, and shoving my stuff around while I was trying to fix the ruffle on the hem of one of the statues that had been broken, and he took my hand and was like, "let's get out of here" and we ran upstairs and suddenly all of my friends from church were there in the gallery, and there was this weird party going on, and he was still holding my hand. A bunch of my old friends from high school were there too...old boyfriends, and Dylan and I went from table to table, talking to them, introducing them all, and I was happy, and everyone kept saying how happy I was, and David Bowie was performing a small cafe-esque type of concert on a tiny stage at the back of the room, and even HE noticed, and decided to take pictures of us. And Dylan kept pulling faces and making me laugh, and he never let go of my hand. We were talking to my old boyfriend Dave, and playing a game or something, and he was like, yeah, but he's not as hot as I am, and I was like, whatever! And I made Dylan take off his shirt to prove it. And I was right. We left Dave and Collin, I think it was, and walked around...and he gave me a piggyback ride and we went outside and there was like, glitter in the air or something, because everything was sparkly, and it was late sunset and we were in a park and everything was green and orange and purple and red and glittery and we laid down on the grass and watched the sun spin away from us as the world threw itself into the stars.

And I know none of that made much sense. But it does to me, because I can still see the images in my head. It was a cool dream. I woke up happy, if not a little weirded out.

So yes. That was the most eventful thing that happened to me this weekend. Other than painting half of my room and then sleeping in it with the door shut and no ventilation, which I think contributed to the oddness of the dream. I wrote some poetry, but I don't have it with me, so I can't share it. I will post it later.

Meanwhile, I'm at work, pretending I don't hate my job and humming along to my rather loud music.