I dreamed I did a day over. Paris Hilton was visiting a record store. I followed, along with others, and entered the store, taking distant shots, while others went closer. By the time I got close, she was gone, but I interviewed some who saw her, and had them sign releases, which they did (though they were long).
Another part of this night’s dreams, lots of our Rhode Island relatives were staying with us, but none would tell me what happened, what was the date. I assumed it was a nuclear attack.
Someone very prepared for the wilderness, who found a way to live with no technology, a few simple basket-like things, was the housekeeper. She had trained herself.
A politician had been slammed for telling people they should prepare beforehand for such eventualities, but now it made perfect sense.