We're under attack!!!!

I slept awful last night. Went to bed at 9pm. Boohoo, right? Well, I read for a bit and fell asleep pretty quickly. I don't even remember Cindy coming to bed. That's right, I beat HER to bed. Unheard of.

The next thing I remember, I wake up hearing the transients outside digging through all the neighborhood recycling bins for cans and bottles. I mean, I feel sorry for them and all, and I'd gladly donate any and all recyclables to them so they can get a little cash, but the feeling that a stranger is outside your house rummaging through your former stuff in the middle of the night is not settling. You wonder if they're going to get curious and start walking around your yard or something. Not a safe feeling.

I roll over and ask Cindy if she'd locked the doors before going to bed, and she mumbled that she did.

Good enough. Slipped back into unconsciousness.

Sort of. The next few hours, we are plagued by helicopters swarming the airspace above our neighborhood. Know what that probably means? Police, looking for someone. In your neighborhood, in the middle of the night!

Somewhere in all that I had the following dream:

Cindy and I were at my grandma's house in Boise, but we were the only one's there. There was a homeless guy who knocked on the door. I asked him what he wanted and he wanted to know if he could take his shower for the month.

I told him that we were in the middle of something and said sorry... but he wouldn't go away. He was much larger than me, and in the argument that ensued (in the middle of which I told Cindy to call 911), he attacked me and I ended up putting him on the ground punching him in the neck, yet still getting my ass kicked.

I woke up right around there, and wouldn't you know it, it was 5am. Time to get up. I snoozed a bit more, but it was restless.

Been in a rotten mood all morning. Feeling better now, but WHAT THE CRAP!