Today, for the first time in about seven or eight years, all my credit cards are completely paid off. $0 balance. It may only last a few weeks, but it’s a damn good feeling.

This morning I dreamed my family was having a birthday party for me. We were all in a classroom sitting at two long tables. I was talking with my Aunt Karen about mystery writers and I said, “Well, Dashiell Hammett had better plotting but I think that Raymond Chandler is the superior writer.”

Just then Van Johnson came in. He said, “I really can’t stay but I wanted to give you your birthday present.” He handed me a folded piece of money, I couldn’t tell what denomination, and a package that he’d bought at an antique store. It was a combo pack: a bag of sesame sticks on one side and a package of “temperillos” on the other. Van explained that temperillos used to be these colored, scented cigarettes. He said, “It got so I could hardly go see a movie anymore because everyone would be smoking them. It smelled terrible.” I examined the package for awhile. He started talking to my relatives about how he was thinking of going to Hawaii and volunteering for the Mormons’ Million Man Garden Misson.