I am in a small boat in the huge ocean and we are in trouble. I think Howard is with me. We are on a boat lane and larger things go by, nearly swamping us. They are so big they don't see us waving or hear us yelling for help. A boat goes by towing like a water skier, a car. I think that is strange. Now I am dumped out of our boat and am struggling to stay afloat. I am in front of a boat and I wave. Finally they see us and rescue us. Now the boat is a truck and my office supplies are in it, including my manila envelopes I send scripts in. Someone, a female, perhaps Millie, is moving the things into the house. I reluctantly agree they should be there, but I don't want them to clutter up the place. Now we have to move where I keep my things. I have an ironing board with cubby holes under it where I am putting some of the envelopes. Another library table is against the wall. I pace. Howard is in the house. I open the window and look out. I lean out. I want out. I take in the fresh air. Now I go to the other end of the room and lean out another window. It is a full floor up from another room in the house. Nothing is in the room. I realize as I'm leaning that I am laying on a sliding drawer that is going full out and suddenly it slides right out and the drawer and I are falling the full floor down. I hope I won't get hurt. I land and it is painful but I am OK. I am shocked I did that. I realize it was partially suicide. Howard comes into the room and I tell him what just happened. He does not even acknowledge he heard. He turns and walks back into the room he was in. I follow him, screaming, "I hate that. I hate it when you don't respond!" He ignores me. I go back upstairs to my room and notice the drawer is gone on that window so I can't do it again. I pace, upset. Howard is moving me out.