i’ve just woken up from a nap, and i’m still in that gauzy, pillow-molded state where each movement i make feels like someone touching my shoulder telling me that it’s time to get up. i had a dream in which my ex-boyfriend trevor came over begging me to take him back and at the same time yelling at me about everything he thought was wrong with me. he went to the restroom and, when he came back, informed me that he had broken my toilet. we used faded, boldly-striped bedsheets from the seventies to mop up the water. i told him that there was no way i would ever take him back, and he left. my friend brian came over, and we were walking to my car as he was telling me that trevor had gotten a girl pregnant and was really upset, which was why he’d come begging me to take him back four years after we’d gone out. i couldn’t find my car. it wasn’t in the driveway, it wasn’t in the street, it wasn’t the next block over. i told brian that i didn’t know where it was, and he gave me a really strange look, then started laughing at me. i looked down, and i was in fact already driving my car, which was like a shiny bright red riding lawnmower in the style of a mazda miata. brian had been walking alongside the tiny lawnmiata as i drove very slowly. silly forgetful me. he hopped aboard and we headed off to the movies. brian and i in the lawnmiata were about to be broadsided by a lawncadillac when the phone rang and woke me up.