I dreamt I was in an old house/apartment, sort of like the one we lived in on Main Street, except it was on a 2nd floor, and the walls were sort of a salmony-hot pink.
Other than that, it was fairly similar, but bigger…maybe it was like a restaurant. There were a bunch of people there at a party. Tim and Vern were there, and I sat down with them at a table. Tim went off to use a restroom, and I told Vern that I was really glad to see that Tim was still alive and not dead. Vern seemed to be of the attitude that it was only temporary, and that they were watching him, and that at any time he could revert to his former dead self.
I also dreamt I was at a party at a newer, more suburban house. A man was living…he was maybe my age or younger, and had some kids. He told me I could get a drink out of the fridge. All he had was alcohol, wine, wine coolers, beer, and water. I didn’t want any of those. I wanted a soda or something hot, but he had no soda.
Actually, I think that latter part was the first part of the dream.
So strange that when you dream about a dead person, it’s so matter-of-fact, like, “oh, he’s not dead, that’s great!” It’s never a freak out or anything.