Crazy Dream

I should be in bed, since the alarm goes off at 2:10 AM, but I'd meant to write about the crazy dream I had last night just before I woke.

Deb and I, and the kids, who were oddly not present or unobtrusive except in my thoughts, lived in a sprawling, elongated one story house that seemed to be half greenhouse/utility/work area and half house, and seemed to have dual kitchen areas. The place was not entirely unfamiliar as a variant on one of my standard dream settings. It had similarities to places I've dreamed since childhood... long, narrow structure, as much porch as house, heavily windowed, extensively open spaced.

I had started cooking something, and this is where the kids impinged, as it was with them in mind. It was something boiling in a saucepan.

For some reason, around the time Deb arrived home, I started cooking something else in the other kitchen area.

When she came home, she chastised me and - can't remember the exact details - sort of bullied me into going and loading her work truck. It was suspiciously like a FedEx delivery truck, sparsely filled with existing packages. It was in a big garage/utility area that was almost a part of the house, and looked more like house than garage.

I was irritated that she'd been psychologically pushy and I'd been unable to resist, and I couldn't understand why she didn't just do this part of her work herself rather than griping and outsourcing it. It would take me a while, but wasn't a big deal, really. Besides, I was supposed to be doing other work...

Then I remembered I'd been cooking. I hoped she'd notice and keep an eye on it, thinking of the 2nd thing I'd started. Then I remembered the first thing I'd started, which even I'd forgotten, with the distraction of being berated and assigned to something unrelated after starting in the second kitchen. I realized she not only wouldn't notice or be aware of stove 2, but she'd really miss stove 1, hanging out in her end of the house. I realized the first thing was probably going to cook dry and maybe even start a fire. I briefly worried, but realized she wouldn't want me to drop what I was doing, and that she should know she'd taken me away from cooking. If there were a fire? Well, it'd get her attention, change everything, and the thought made me feel free. So I kept doing as she'd asked. And then woke up, a bit disturbed.