Tonight’s dream spectacular featured me, drunk, unable to put the car out of reverse and consequently executing careering donuts up and down the lawns of an unfamiliar and well-to-do suburban neighborhood. I was of course seized by a mob of wealthy teenagers who beat the holy fuck out of me. It is the beating part of the dream I recall most vividly.

In other dream-related news, I have been awakening once a night from a foreclosure nightmare. How I hate home ownership.

3 thoughts on “Donuts

  1. I tried to be enthusiastic about owning a condo. That was when real estate was booming, and I could at least convince myself that I was making money. I wasn’t. My wife was making money. Now we’re divorced and she’s losing money on the place. Basically, I got very little satisfaction from owning a house. Maybe if I’d started younger or something. As I get older, I am starting to detach from the world and float away. I have no desire to own an anchor. I am like George Jones, I need four walls around me to hold my life, and that’s about it.

  2. Because they came from the houses of the wealthy subdivision whose lawns I was inadvertently tearing up.

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