I am going to see a friend of mine who is going through a divorce.  I get there and there's a limo in front of his apartment building.  Apparently, she is here to retrieve some of her things.  I slip past the waiting chauffeur and head inside.  In the apartment there's a large, thug-like man, sifting through my friend's CDs.  I feign annoyance and grab the stack the man is holding.  "You can't take my CDs too.  You can have his but I won't let you take mine."  I start muttering about how I didn't sign any divorce papers and I'll be damned if I let his ex-wife take any of my CDs.  Of course, none of them are mine and I start pulling out Rush and Fleetwood Mac, as though they were my own.  The big guy then takes some small plastic action figures for an elaborate board game--knights and banner men, on and off horses, etc.  I stop the guy as he is leaving. "Look," I say, "I know you don't know me and I don't know you but promise me you'll bring these back.  They're really hard to replace and, if you do, I'll owe you one."  The guy is completely baffled by my thinking I could persuade him in any way but he agrees and I say goodbye as he walks out the door.  I shrug, knowing he may never return with the playing pieces but at least I tried.  My friend is grateful and I leave, after giving him a hug.

I head out the door and meet another friend who works at a local woman's shelter. She explains that she has to go away for a while and she gives me the keys to her facility, asking me to open up the place in the morning and check on things.  I agree, noticing that the key-chain has some white marabou feathers on it. Before heading to the shelter,  I stop to get some food.  I go to the display counter and choose an apple filled doughnut but they give me something else.  I point to the one I want but they look confused.  Then I notice that there is meat and ask my friend (the same one getting the messy divorce) behind the counter (he owns the place) if he would slice up some meat for me because I need to bring some food with me to the shelter.  He says he will if I'll help and soon I'm slicing off the dried out tips and excess fat off of slips of meat before my friend cooks them.

I leave to go to the shelter but, when I get there, I can't find the keys.  As I'm rifling through my pockets, a woman who obviously needs shelter, walks up and tries the door which is, obviously, locked.  She doesn't linger long and I realize that I must have left the keys at home.  So I hurry to my hotel suite where the children and I are staying.  They are home from school and I describe the key-chain with the marabou but they say they haven't seen it.  I realize, in a panic, that I've let my friend down.  I change my clothes into something a little dressier--black velvet jacket and slacks suit with a nice blouse--but it is summer and the suit is too warm.  But I'm desperate to make myself look good.  I don't know why.

I leave, telling the children I'll be back soon.  As I cut through the lobby of a large building, I come out the other side and see that there is construction tape running around the place.  I only notice because I try to avoid two guards as I walk towards the stairs down to the street.  I have no choice but to pass by the guards, which I do as surreptitiously as I can.  I get to the stairs and there is quite a crowd.  Going down the stairs, I see a fawn that people occasionally slow down to pet.  When I get to the fawn, all the time wondering what a fawn is doing on some stairs in the middle of the city, I stop to pet it.  It is incredibly soft and eager for affection, licking my face around my right eye.  Then there is a squirrel with us, wanting some attention.  It squeezes between me and the fawn momentarily and a woman coming up the stairs squeals with delight, exuding over how much she loves squirrels and trees.  She pulls out a scrapbook to prove it and, as I struggle to hold the fawn who is climbing into and all over my lap, she flips to a page showing a scrapbook layout idea but not an actual page--just a template.  I realize that she may be crazy, even though she is showing me a page with a silhouette of a tree on the page.  "See?" she insists.  "I love the woods and all of its creatures."

I get to the bottom of the stairs and I meet someone and they take me somewhere.  I'm confused but I follow and I am soon in a hospital waiting room with a group of other people, all dressed in hospital clothes.  One of them turns on a radio but the volume is too loud and a nurse swoops into the room and tries to turn it down.  When she can't she tries to muffle it.  "Why don't you just close the door first and then try to figure it out?" I suggest and she looks at me furiously, as if I should know why she can't close the door.  She walks away in a huff and I wonder how much longer I will be here before I can leave.  Someone (who looks a lot like Greg Nix) explains to me that I had a mental breakdown and that I will be there for a while.  I argue that I can't stay there, that I have three children and "who will take care of them if I am here in the hospital?"  Nobody seems concerned and I freak out, panicked, that I've been locked up in this facility without my knowledge.