Had a weird and stressful dream.
I was living with my boyfriend in what was apparently my grandmother's house. There was some kind of traumatic event, I can't remember what, and he was never quite the same. He devoted his entire lifes work to taking a giant collection of VHS tapes and turning them into like, nuclear bars, through some kind of process.
He'd then stack these bars in the garage, which was next to the room we were in. He carved holes in the walls for easy access into the garage, going back and forth, stacking the tapes in giant piles. I was concerned, but I didn't want to make a fuss, so I just tried to comfort him while hanging out nearby in the room, playing games on my computer.
And then all the nuclear VHS tapes reached critical mass, and the house exploded.
We were both now extremely irradiated and only had a little time to live. My boyfriend became even more lethargic, as his life's work was ruined, and I just kind of wandered the house. My transphobic and abusive aunt and uncle came over to berate me for how I was taking care of the house, but I ignored them, drinking Tang and wandering aimlessly.
And then I woke up!