sunday morning dream stories

i'm visiting my friend, who somehow now live at the top of a high rise that's mostly abandoned.  it's filled with animals, as she's just brought in six chickens to go with a bunch of cats and a pile of puppies.  i reach down to pet a pug puppy, and it just bites me on the finger and looks at me like, "sorry, i have to bite you now, because i'm super tough."

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something about elevators not working in the parking garage.

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i make it down to the mall at the bottom of the elevator (sure), and stumble upon a bakery/cafe.  it's super small, with not much room inside.  the first three times i try to go in, other people sneak past and fill the store while i'm opening the door.  the final time, i keep holding the door open, as the last group of people are just standing in the doorway talking to people on both sides.  i swing the door all the way back, and think about if it's possible to crush my head between the door and the wall.

but then the cafe clears, and i can go in and order.  the menu is on a bunch of cards scattered on the counter, and they have a tv menu, but it never changes to the menu screens, just like pictures of cakes and things.  the owner is at the counter, and she asks what i want, and then describes a delicious sounding cake.  "it's a pie," she insists, "and in the corners, it's like starburst candies."  that doesn't sound good now, but it totally does in dream world.  "it's $17.16"  wow, ok, that's kind of expensive, but it sounds good. "it's $7.16" ok, that's a better deal, i'll have that.  "no, you have to say it right."  there's this long script of how to order, where it's all, "after thinking things through, and considering all the options, the menu item i imply (i read it as insist, saw it was imply, decided that doesn't make sense, and continued again with insist) i have is that pie you just described."

"oh, that's special order.  we don't have any."  i'm beginning to hate this lady.

"then give me that sandwich, with the swiss."  i point to the tv, just as it flips off the page with the sandwiches.  she pushes a random sandwich thing that flips a bunch of cards to make one with swiss.  "no, no, the..." i start shuffling through the menu pages, trying to find the sandwich page, and when i do, there aren't just the six or whatever from the tv, it's like dozens.  and they all look super yummy, although i'm pretty sure my brain just invented fake-french words to use as ingredients.  the owner goes into the back, and i see they have soup too, and a cup of french onion soup sounds yummy, so i decide to get that, and "the swiss and mushroom sandwich" and a plain grilled cheese with three cheeses, so i can try out two of their breads.  but no one is there to take my order, and i turn around and the place is way bigger than before, and it's full of people who are angry at me that i'm taking so long, because they want to order too.

and that's when simulated social anxiety caused me to wake up from a nightmare about grilled cheese.

it's not your fault, grilled cheese.  i will love you forever. <3