I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt I was involved in a play, in which two members of the cast were shot and killed. It was sort of like an occupational hazard. In my dream, I was both shaking with shock and fearing for my own life. Cut to some meeting in an open space like a city hall. There’s a long table with everyone involved in the play around it and for some odd reason, Rob Ford. Everyone was grieving as they made name-tags on large 11″x17″ sheets of paper. Raspberry was with me and she picked a sheet of pink paper on which to decorate her name. Much of this part of my dream involved passing around the stack of name-tags, each person searching for their own. Cut to the next scene where everyone goes out for drinks at the patio of a bar on a cobblestone street, and then I’m awoken by Raspberry rooting to nurse: “other side,” she mumbles.

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