In our house upstairs

Ooo, bad night last night. I got into a serious insomniac rut--couldn't get myself to stop, then when I did I couldn't get to sleep. All sorts of demons taunted me: the sense of life rushing away, missing my parents, feeling empty, angst, angst, angst. Then my dreams were strange (no wonder). We lived up a rickety staircase on old floorboards. Rob went to work on them and, without my seeing the actual process (though I did step over some places in transition, to stay safe, while this change was happening), he quickly and efficiently replaced all the loose and rotting boards with new planks and then installed a nice low-pile carpet. There were many beautiful hummingbirds flying around inside and I killed two of them without really looking, with one hand, my right one, and I left their small bodies out on the floor of our house--they depressed me. The brilliant, dark, iridescent purple feathers of one started coming out and being scattered. I turned around and there was a rough-looking dog who'd crept in through our open door and snuck up close behind me. I was startled and chased him out of our home but he hung around outside the door. Rob saw him and told me with some alarm that it was a young wolf.