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This morning, visions of purses (or no purses, as the case may be) danced behind my eyelids.

In one scene, I dreamed I went to Thistleberry, a cute house-turned-gift shop in Motley, Minnesota. In real life this is a real place and the woman who runs it makes purses for which I’m seriously jonesing. She has a shop on Etsy, so you can see what all my fuss is about. Anyway, in my dream, I walked into Thistleberry and saw that all the purses were gone, replaced by white, satiny shirts displayed on the backs of chairs. Sad day!

In another dream scene, I was touring an upper story wooden walkway around the outside of a house. As I walked, I noticed that some of the limbs of trees hanging over the walkway were on fire. They seemed to be spontaneously combusting. I headed down a set of stairs into the house so I could warn people and see if the fire alarms were going off.

When I reached the bottom, my co-worker Ali gave me a large cream-colored purse with lots of pockets. Inside, she had placed a number of items – an unusual pink and cream rock, some smooth, flat, dark gray rocks, and a cute pink coin purse filled with change. She explained that it was bad luck to give away an empty purse.

How long do you think it’ll be before I get a new purse?

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