Dream

The scene: the house I grew up in.

The plot: I'm trying to leave, but there's a hit-man outside trying to kill me. My mother is there, very blasé about the whole thing. Somehow, it makes sense for me to make a run for the car (which is actually my father's truck) and try to get away. I woke up just as I was trying to make a run for the truck.

It had a very Godfather feel to it.

Anxiety about seeing my mother this weekend? Ya think?