OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION.

Collette just dropped me off at home after watching Inception. I was in post-movie daze with the added semi-stupor of Inception's twisted plot. Grandad's car wasn't in the carport. At 11:00 p.m. After staring at the forbodingly empty space in the carport, I had the presence of mind to remember that he went to pick Gran up at the airport. Mind still slightly boggled, I walked courageously into an empty house.

Lights on. TV set on the classical music station. Volume up. Grandad's blanket casually lying on the couch. Things sitting around like people are home. But everything is TOTALLY STILL. Because no one is home. Seriously, my skin started crawling.

I - literally - thought for a moment: "Is this real life??!?"

It's kind of cool what movies can do to you, huh? It is the most deliciously dreadful feeling. It doesn't even have to correspond to the actual facts of the movie: just a feeling.

A song just came on the TV station and I was like "I swear I know this song! I think I've played this song! HOW DO THEY KNOW?!?!?" Paranoia/they're following me/etc. Then I realize: it's Fur Elise.

People seriously need to come home. The movie wasn't even about serial killers.

HOLY ------, the toast just popped.