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In this dream, I was walking through our kitchen downstairs, when some movement to my right caught my eye. I instinctively stopped moving—just in time to see two fireballs fly from the living room, pass inches from my face, and crash into the kitchen wall to my left. I peered around the corner to see my roommates standing by the bar, laughing hysterically. Sam was juggling a fireball between his hands and eyeing me.

Oh, wait… that wasn’t a dream. That was fifteen minutes ago. I was going down to the basement to check on my laundry when I discovered my roommates having fun with rubbing alcohol and lighters. They’d set the bar, several cotton balls and cotton swabs, a sword, each other, and a hammer on fire. So far, the only casualty had been the upholstery of one of our chairs.

All in all, not bad for a Sunday night.

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In other news, I (with ~much~ help from best friend Eric and uncles Don and Jeff) spent all of yesterday helping my grandparents move all of their furniture from a large house in Des Moines to a smaller house in Truro (south-central Iowa). I’m not exactly sure why two 60+ year olds need three queen-sized beds to complement their three antique (i.e., very heavy) bedroom sets, all of which came from the 2nd floor and two of which returned to the second floor. Regardless, the point is we got it moved and I still have limited mobility today. And they’ve promised not to move for at least forever, if not longer. I give it three years.

I must admit, my motives for helping were essentially selfish. My uncle Alan was considering coming up from Texas to help them move over his spring break. Of course, that would pretty much obliterate my plans of going down to Texas to visit him during mine (since they’re simultaneous). Now that they’re moved, hopefully the trip is back on. I haven’t been away from campus for more than a couple days for a very long time. I need a break.