Oh, good one, Sophia. Good old Ceiling Cat.

Although the sad truth is that it would just be a nice place to put all our crap.

What are houses for, except to provide you with nice places to put all your crap?

Is it sad it's the finished attic I'm jonesing after in that dream?

I've been pondering getting the attic finished, with or without Ceiling Man-Squirrel. It may be prohibitively expensive for making a nice place to keep my stuff, though.

I don't even have pull down access to my attic - the hatch is in my tiny hallway right in front of the bathroom so it is a huge hassle to get a ladder in there. I have fantasies/long-range plans to cut a hole in the ceiling of one of the bedrooms and put in permanent stairs, and then start putting in floors and whatnot up there. I think I would enjoy doing it myself, but that's me.

I had a very strange dream last night. I was on Saturday Night Live. Not hosting or one of the cast, but like they picked someone out of the audience to be in a few sketches. So I was trying to call people and tell them to watch. I got through my first sketch fine (don't have a clue what it was, but in the dream it was very detailed) and then someone was showing me how to go through a secret passage from one side of the stage to the other and somehow I fell off the passage onto the stage, landing on my feet with a big "ta-da". After that my phone blew up with messages from people saying my "ta-da" was brilliant.

WTF?

That sounds almost as good as a donut hula hoop.

No. Because you can always haul yourself out for a donut the next morning. The handsome young man in the rafters, and the extra rooms, are a little harder to alleviate.

I was not considering the "to dream of good things and awaken not to have them is suffering" aspect. Good point.

Wow, everyone was dreaming last night!

I've also had those "find new rooms in your house" dreams. I read once what they were supposed to mean, but I've forgotten. I had dreams that were only depressing on waking, because I am not, in fact, starting to date a girl who is very cute and a good kisser. Though then there was this weird segue where I overheard her arguing with her twin sister, who thought I was too much drama, and then suddenly it was all Jane Austen up in the place and she was saying she is in the Army and I am my parents' heir....but that part wasn't so distressing, more surreal.

For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, our taxes are not done. And now, working on them, I have discovered that the online software we use has eliminated a feature it always used to have.

We may be slightly fucked.

Oh, crap, Dana. I'm sorry.

Tax day the the public library is less fun than you'd think.