It's not something I can fix myself, so there's an unexpected expense (and just in time to be heaped on top of the expected expense of heating season.) It will have to be fixed before the next rainstorm, which could be as early as Thursday but might not be until Saturday. Wind could blow rain inside the garage and get my boxes of books wet.
I suppose I could haul the boxes into the house, but then I'd run the risk of needing to make extra visits to the chiropractor, so I might as well spend the money on getting the door fixed. Besides, chiropractic treatments do nothing to prevent raccoons from peeing in my garage.
The onset of cold weather always gives me strange dreams, but I seldom remember them. All I know is that usually I wake up suddenly with vaguely disturbing visions in my head which immediately vanish. On those rare occasions when a dream lingers long enough for me to memorize bits of it, I'm always bewildered as to where it came from, so distant are its images from anything I've ever experienced in waking life. If the recent dreams follow the usual pattern, they'll stop once I've grown accustomed to sleeping in the cold. That's how I know my blankets aren't haunted.
Now, if I could only get Portia to stop trying to steal my breath as I sleep.