There were a number of weird things going on with my subconscious last night.
We were staying at this wonderful beach house that sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean and it was a long walk via a rickety wooden staircase to the ocean. (This detail seems meaningless, but there were many trips up and down the set of stairs, including one with a large raft.)
There were many cameos by friends (you were there, and you were there, and you were there!) and there were some wonderful moments with beer and bourbon.
Towards the end of the dream, it got weird. The beach house's attic was a gateway to a Mayan temple and the ghosts of the temple possessed Danny (the friend of TEA's that was on vacation with us) through the bite of a large blue rat that dragged him up to the attic and then dropped him. Yes, he was injured.
It was very odd and it transitioned in an odd way, which I suppose is a lot like life. Life is great until it isn't and you are dragged into a haunted attic by a possessed blue rat.
Or maybe that is just how my life works.