Terrible Wicked Awful Dream . . .

I dreamed Mother and I were sitting in our usual places at the computers and all of a sudden the door opens and this man just walks in.  He was short, grey haired, in a blue suit.  He looked solemn, angry.  Before I could say anything people started filing in from the kitchen door.  They had come to look at our house because they heard we were hoarders.  I started yelling and screaming, getting them out.  Then another man came in and he was from the newspaper.  I freaked.  Finally woke.  Gods . . .