Frank Sinatra Brought A Garden Hose

So, last night I had a Sophie’s Choice dream: I was forced to choose between Gus and Simon. I had to give one of them away to a family who desperately wanted a dog. Although I tease a lot (in real life) that I’d give up Simon, I went ahead and did the same in the dream. Anyway, about an hour after he left, I felt awful. An enormous guilt. I missed him. And there was no way I could get him back. I tried to come up with ways, people I could reach out to to help me bring him home. In the meantime, I tried to keep my myself occupied and decided to clean a house—not my house. The more I cleaned, and moved furniture around, the more I saw dust and tons and tons of piled up dead roaches (I could not make myself include a picture of them in my photo cheesy faux-Photoshop pic.). Everywhere on the floor. I swept and vacuumed and finally Frank Sinatra came in the house to help. He brought a garden hose and just started spraying the bugs out of the house and hosed off an old “hi-fi” rectangular stereo. He put on a record (one of his, of course) and started to sing and clean, and I started to feel better.