I've been having strange dreams again lately. Most of them are so strange in tone and content that the next morning I can't even articulate what they're about. And they always make me tired. But the last two nights I can describe.

The first dream, Tuesday night, involved David Letterman. He was a real estate agent now and showing me around all kinds of three-bedroom rentals. The last one he showed me was still filled with the owner's furniture, and it was messy. The kitty litter needed changing. (When I woke up Wednesday morning, the first thing I heard when I got into the car was a David Letterman Show clip from the night before.)

Then last night's dream had Chris Martin from Coldplay attending one of my family's gatherings. My younger sister was hostess and led me over to him, saying, "I think you know who this is..." And I did. (When I woke up this morning, the first thing I heard when I got into the car was a Coldplay song.)

It's all very strange, and I'm becoming convinced that I make things happen with my mind.

So tonight I will dream about opening up my closet to find a bottomless bank safe filled with money, and money, and money.