I have a great idea for a book or something and I am rushing home to write it or research it and I deliberately go around a crowd of people having fun and bike on a path alone. I go to the house I used to live in and see my mother and Lydia are still there cleaning up and packing. I ask permission to come in and use the phone. I walk through several rooms, noticing the wallpaper is newspaper comics and have holes in them, and think I should try to help fix that but decide to continue on with the writing phone calls.