You can tell us, Emily!
Oh, you might want to reconsider that. But, well...
So I was somehow transported back to 1983 (I knew I was in the past, but there was no particular attention to how I got there), where I ran into the people who were making Ghostbusters, including Alec Baldwin, apparently in Central Square in Cambridge (that is to say, they were actually filming there). Alec Baldwin also, in my dream, was living in the apartment that eventually would be lived in by my Good Ex of the East and after him, by vw and me. We spent a lot of time chatting about how the apartment would change over the next, oh, 20 years, including taking out the dishwasher and kitchen island, knocking out a wall, and several other things. (Actually, the only thing that I know that ever changed in that apartment is that someone's cat used the rock garden as a litter box, so she got rid of all the rocks and never replaced them.) And then there was, well, other stuff, like something scrawled in black marker on the back of a sheet of plywood and why does my brain retain this stuff? What's the point, exactly? I could sort of understand about the vivid dreams I had just after starting my meds -- a) I could assign psychological interpretations to being leaped on by lions and sorting out a magical kitchen and b) I had just started new meds -- but what the heck is this? Alec Baldwin and a dishwasher and plywood? 1983? Why? A week later, it still won't leave my head!