When the alarm went off this morning, I was in the middle of a weird dream. My husband and I were sitting at a kitchen table with Johnny Marr, all eating sandwiches. I guess we’d been talking about how things were going for him financially and my husband said, “Well, as long as you can take care of your aging parents, that’s good enough.”

Friends, we were Johnny Marr’s parents. He had just taken a bite of his sandwich and froze with this look on his face of total disbelief, as you might expect. I tried to soften things by making a light-hearted remark to the effect of, don’t worry, dear, he’s only joking. Sort of. Johnny Marr continued to stare, still not chewing that bite he’d taken. Then the alarm clock saved him from more of this awkward encounter.

I can easily see the combination of factors that contributed to this dream; I’d just talked to my mom last night and talked about our finances (hers and ours), a recent dinner time joke my husband made to our son, and Johnny Marr’s Instagram. Recently, he was out on tour with the Killers and would post stories where he’d turned up at some guitar shop or studio somewhere and play some classic riffs from a Smiths song. I just watched one yesterday.

I checked Instagram this morning and he posted a new picture, probably at just about the same time I was having that dream, and the look on his face is almost exactly like the stare he was giving us. The title of his most recent album is Fever Dreams Pts 1-4, so really, I think it’s his fault my subconscious has him funding my retirement.