Down and dirty

I don't know why I had a dream of waking up and finding my sofa, tables, lamps and television gone. I do know that what woke me up in the dream was someone knocking on the door and it turned out to be the thief. My panties and bras and clothes were hanging over the banister and onto the stairs, dripping silk, lace and polyester. He stood there with gloves on his hands and a sweet smile and when I asked him why he was taking my things and if he would bring them back he smiled and walked down the stairs and outside, leaving me devastated and crying, not over the loss of the things but the invasion of my privacy and my peace. I followed him outside and he got into some kind of huge SUV. I stood there waiting for him to drive away so I could get the license number. The front plate was gone and the back plate was crumpled and folded so that all I saw were the middle three letters/numbers: 3MB. Then I ran after them yelling, calling for the landlady and the neighbors to help me stop that thief. Jump forward to me back in my apartment surveying the wreck. I wondered why they didn't take the chaise or go into the bedroom where I lay sleeping while they took my things or why I didn't hear them. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I could help the police since each of the things they took was marked with my social security number and name in indelible ink that shows up under black light. I even had papers to prove I owned them. Finding them was just a matter of time.

At that moment of triumph nature screamed in my ear to wake up and take care of business.

I did.

It could be my worries that every time I settle down and settle into some kind of stability I end up having to move, thus keeping me mindful of never being too comfortable, but I don't think that's the case now. Maybe the dream's message will come clear in time and I will understand what I'm being told. All I know is that this is one time I don't want the dream to be prophetic -- as many of my real life dreams tend to be. I don't want to wake up and find my living room gone -- at least not until I finish painting and hanging art work.