I dreamed that the war had started here. That Greg and I knew we were about to become refugees and we started packing accordingly. The neighborhood behind us was already in flames and we started moving all the furniture into one room because we knew we'd be gone for a long time, and we thought if the place looked empty, people wouldn't be as likely to loot it. Everything we packed had to fit into two camping backpacks because we knew we'd run out of gas and have to hike for who knows how long. So we got ready to set out and then...I woke up. I looked around the dark bedroom and thought to myself, why do we continue to buy so much junk? Do we really need all this stuff?