- Did you get some sleep?  You were so nervous yesterday.

- A little, troubled sleep.  What are your dreams like?

- You and me, hanging out at a hookah bar.

- I'll take you for Christmas.

- Can we go tonight?

- No, I have to plan out something to get my blog back.

- You can do your planning there.  You'll look like a busy man in front of all the hotties.

- I'm so stupid—

- They won't know that—

- I shouldn't have told you.  Now you're going to ask me everyday until we go.

- It's my dream—

- It's not your dream...oh wait, I guess it is your dream.

- Yea...

- You know what I dreamt last night?

- I can only dream!

- No, it was sad.  This guy was boxing up his electronics and trying to sell it to me for $160 or $120 as a package, but I wasn't saying anything.  

- You can probably sell it for more.

- The boxes were in a shopping cart—Yea, I'm sure it was worth more than that.  And he kept going down.  I think at the end he asked for $5 and I could see his face getting sicker.  I felt like crying when I woke up...like you, I guess.  I still remember the strain on his face.  He looked like a high school jock.

- I wonder what he's doing.

- (laughs) He asks about you.

- Let's take a selfie.

- I'm tired, Today.