The great hamburger fiasco

 

Going back to sleep has its advantages. When I wake up early and stay awake, I tend to not dream, or to forget my dreams. When I go back in and double dip, I can sometimes re-enter a particular state and continue on in the dream. If I stay too long, I'll risk getting too far gone and sleeping through the whole morning. Some day I may get "stuck" in dream land and never wake up.

So now, while it is fresh: I was living with my Mom and Greg, in a nice, big fancy house. There were pianos in every room. The piano in Greg's room had a slide out seat, from which he had removed the bottom rollers, making it difficult to adjust. That way he'd know if someone else was in there messing with it. I found myself in the awkward position of trying to readjust it after playing the piano without permission.

I also found myself cooking some hamburger in a fishbowl filled with lit candles. Not the best barbecue technique, I can tell you. The fat drained into the bowl, first feeding the flame and causing the meat to expand into a giant pancake, mushroom type mess, which then covered and smothered the flame. All that smothering and covering of a grease fire with fresh hamburger did was cause a giant plume of black smoke to erupt. I thought the whole place was going to catch on fire.

"Greg! Greg!" I was screaming, "Fire extinguisher? Anyone!"

No one showed up right away. I contemplated if the meat would be worth saving. By the time they got there, the smoke had died down. I looked for evidence of staining from the soot or grease, but didn't find much to be guilty of. Maybe I was gonna skate on this one. 

But then I noticed Sharon's leg had been burnt. I began to check it for "doneness," as of it were going to eaten instead of the candle-waxy hamburger mess in the fishbowl. It wasn't quite done, though I carved into it a few times, so now we'd have to eat it. She was remarkably not concerned, or at least didn't say anything.

I perceived that I was blowing it, though, and this was my last bail out. I was living with them because I couldn't make it on my own. This was not going to be tolerated in the future, but it wasn't enough to get me kicked out.

Some stuff happened earlier in the dream, before I got up to pee, but I've lost all reference points. It was just an odd sensation of a whole different time and place. 

Oh, I remember...There was a guy asking me about a couple of pictures in my scrap book. One was of Cherie, a girl I was dating in high school. And another picture was of a girl he referred to as "the sleaze." I assumed it was Patrice, who Cherie didn't like very much and called "Slutrice."

This guy was going to ask me some automotive question related to 4 wheel drive powertrain diagnostics. I thought, how typical, people find out you were a mechanic and they assume you know everything about every type of vehicle. I started to interrupt him to tell him that I was no longer a mechanic. 

I told him, "Ok, go ahead and finish your question and I'll give you the same answer that I was just about to give you." 

His question was so far out in left field that I suppose it didn't matter, though. He wanted to purchase a brand new powertrain, from a Jeep or similar 4 wheel drive, and mount it in his home as some kind of display. Weirdo.

That was when he changed it up and started asking me about the scrapbook. It turned out he was one of the two girls' father, but I never did find out which. I'm guessing it wasn't the one he referred to as "the sleaze," but you never know.

It seems like there were a ton more little tiny details I'm forgetting, now that I'm awake, and I'm using a computer. My email is calling me, begging me to find out who is responsible for the (1 unread)  tab peeking out from my Yahoo account. So, on we go, where who knows.