I had a dream that I got the most amazing, beautiful house in East Tennessee. It was on the edge of a town, but had this insane, unbelievable view and was funky and perfect inside. Then I went jogging along the train tracks, the the nearby lake, where I found a sort of cafe that had dozens of flavors of ice cream, tons of fancy cakes and pastries. I got stuck there for a long time, looking at all the stuff they had. Then I couldn’t get service for a long time. Eventually I ordered something called “Cathar bread” which was a big awesome loaf of very European bread drenched in garlic butter. Huh.
Looking at the line-up I was unable to identify the guy who held the gun when they robbed me. The Detective said he was going to question him anyway because of the print match on my car. The Det. is concerned because they only got good prints off the outside of car and defense attorney could argue that the suspect could have been in the neighborhood and accidentally touched the car. Which, hello, the prints clearly show that the handle was being pulled open, but I don’t think anyone photographed them when they were visible. The high point though was the detective assigned ot my case. He looks like Gary Oldman in Batman if he was dressed by costume designer doing a modern day remake of a 70s cop drama (still set in the 70s). Like he didn’t look dated, or like he hadn’t changed his clothes in 40 years, but he totally looked he was in a 70s cop drama. I loved him. He told me he had ways of making the suspect talk and his partner balked, but the Det. Clarified that he didn’t mean torture, rather “Jedi mind tricks.” Anyway the cop was awesome. I want to write stories about him, except he seems to maybe be living stories that people have already written.
I need to go get in the shower. I need to be working. I need to be less hard on myself. I need more sleep. I need a vacation to the land of no people. I need. I need. I need. I need.