This morning I dreamt that my mother was a tiny Indian (from India). She was so tiny I carried her over my shoulder like a kitten. I don't know what this means. I have a feeling this is going to be an odd week. Someone must've left something in one of the apron's pockets; my load of laundry was ruined this morning, with brownish smears everywhere. At least the beautiful large bouquet of flowers in the window keeps me content. My neighbor Aaron brought it to me over the weekend, because I keep packages for him. It pays off to be nice sometimes.