I am sleeping on an uncomfortable hide-a-bed in a room where the floor is dirt and a rectangular shallow hole with straw in it is the area for the bed/couch. I wake up and see Howard standing near the bed on the right. He is very sad and I realize he has had enough and will ask for a divorce from me. I feel sad and a bit bad about my treatment of him. I look down on the floor and see about 6 inches of water there, and floating in it is my hand-held tape recorder and a couple of other small electronic items. I am very upset as I pick it up and see it is warped and broken. I blame Ellie or her children. I get out of bed and feel terrible. The place is a mess. The babies are fussy. Now I and a woman friend decide to drive to town. As we are driving through a building, a man screams for help. The floor of a business has given out under him. The older pudgy owner of the business rushes over to pull him out. Now our way out of the building is blocked. I am concerned. What shall we do? The woman points to a bank with an elevator. We are, I see, on the 20th floor. I go back to the owner and call him out. He is quite agitated and confused and I apologize for disturbing him, but does he know another way out? He describes the building next door and this or that office and to turn there. I ask my friend if she knows that way. Then I am concerned how if I leave the van, will I be able to get home? It's too far to walk. Somehow I get home and another woman roommate is around. There is some information about a model who types, or a type model, and I am curious and would like to go find her and meet her. My roommate is also interested.