My dreams are an integral part of each 24 hour cycle. I don't view them in a voyeuristic sense, I see them as direct experience. They are lived, not watched like TV. ~~ Nick Bantock

Monday, January 5, 2004:

I came home to find big white console television-like monitors installed outside of our house, and each house on the block, and the houses were open for people to walk through and view. There was a little "Open" sign on my house, and the front door was open.

I spoke to someone in charge, and said, "Am I obligated to let people into my house? I don't want to, this is my house, and I'm not intending to sell it," but he just sort of shrugged and walked away. I was worried about the cats. I went into the house, thinking, well, at least it's clean, and Dinah and Doña were in the kitchen, and they both stretched out on the floor so I could pet them, one with each hand.

Saturday, January 3, 2004:

A "beach" dream - Looking out the window--a large, picture window--of a hotel room at the beach. The sand was undulating, like dunes on the Sahara, and a hotel employee was out with a rake, trying to tame them.

Friday, January 2, 2004:

We somehow acquired a burro as a pet. It was in the back of Bob's van in a carrier, like the cat carriers. I worried that it was going to be too cold, and wondered how it was going to get along with the cats. I named it "Churro."

Friday, January 2, 2004:

Got to work, walked down the hall, noticed that J. was in bed in his office. I thought the room looked "different," somehow, but couldn't think why until I realized that normally he was already up when I went by. We apparently all lived at the office; I went into my own room and looked around at it, seeing all my things on shelves.

Later, I was making noodles and forgot to put in salt.