I dreamed that I'd been hired as a consultant by some famous company in NYC and when I solved their problems, they were very upset. They all had golden parachutes and they'd planned for me to fail and they'd get out with lots of money and I'd be blamed. They were so upset they took me to a secret place in the building where I could see through a window that far below was a pestilence-ridden underground. They opened the elevator next to the window and said that was where I was going as they pushed me in. The elevator was dark, dank, and creepy, and I said "Good afternoon, Elevator." It suddenly became bright and plush and happy and said "Good afternoon to you!" and delivered me to a lovely park with a valet waiting to carry my garment bag (I was wearing tatty clothes, I don't know why I didn't wear whatever was in the garment bag). And then the phone rang.
So, the moral here is, be polite to your elevators. (I think that's a little Girl Genius that snuck in.)
The phone call was an interactive recording that Kaiser does on different subjects. This one was on BP and the nice lady's voice asked if she could talk to me and I said yes, and then she asked if I was taking BP meds, and did they control my BP, and was I taking them on schedule all the time/sometimes/rarely, etc. I figure I should do these because Kaiser knows I'm paying attention then, but I did tell her No on wanting more tips to keep my BP down and No on getting a packet to help me keep track of my BP. My BP monitor does that. It assumed you had a BP cuff, at least, and I'm not sure it should have. Then it ended telling me to keep track of my laughs out loud and to Thrive (Thrive is Kaiser's motto).
And since I got up, I've filled the birdfeeder, muscled in the box of laundry detergent (not only cheaper bought by the case but Giant stopped carrying it years ago) and got the six bottles out to the storeroom. And been online. I spend way too much time online, but I don't want to give anything up.