a tel'arain'rhoid of shopkeepers

Last night I dreamt that I accidentally bid $166 on this t-shirt on eBay. It was horrible because I was soooo tired and could barely summon the mind and body to retact the bid. Plus the bid was at that amount, so no chance of still paying less. Then I got the retraction screen and there were so many options, like "retract by X amount." I woke up tired and anxious and with a shockingly sore throat. Perhaps I was screaming post-modernist screams all throughout.

The night before I dreamt that Phobos had died, and when she died I noticed how no other golden hamster had such vivid colouring as she'd had. One of the other hamsters was more the shade of a dwarf argente like Ambrosia, really. So now I'm worried for both of them. Phobos sometimes sleeps in draughts and Ambrosia may finally entertain motherhood in a few weeks. But isn't it likely that it's the dreams you tell everyone about are the ones that never turn eerily true down the road?