Dream 20030803, 5:00 AM:
I’m living in a tiny, tiny house (about the size of a travel camper, but it seems like a building) with my brother R. It is fairly messy, but I don’t feel really stressed about it. I get a phone call from someone, telling me that they’re going to visit and take photos of me for a newspaper article. I rearrange a few things in the tiny house, so that they will get a good shot. The article has something to do with me cooking breakfast, but the stuff that I’m working on at the stove reminds me more of my soapmaking equipment. I am stirring something in a very tall cannister like a section of stove pipe; I think it may be oatmeal. I drape a white towel over some stuff on a counter, to hide it for the photo – it’s not anything I feel concerned about, just trying to make the image cleaner by removing visual distraction. The person arrives and visits with me for a while and takes a few pictures, then leaves.
Apparently, the article generates a lot of interest, and they decide to do a more in-depth study of my breakfast table. I don’t think I’m at the same place, but now there are people setting up and arranging a more elaborate photo shoot. They pull out a dining table that I recognize as mine, but it’s not really the one I like. They set it up so that it’s collapsed down very slim, like all its leaves have been removed; apparently it’s something to do with the picture. Then, we find the oak dining table that I really like (the real one that’s in the dining room now) and set it up in place of the other one, and that makes me happy. There are people working on the photo shoot, and I have to wait in another room.
It finally seems like they’re finished, and I go to look at the setup. The room I’m in looks like part of a furniture store, and I realize that they’ve changed out everything; not even the table is mine. It’s very decorative, though, with candlesticks carved out of wood and banded and studded with metal. The table looks like mahogany, sort of reddish and open-grained. The only things that I recognize are two bottles of something like salad dressing, and they’re set up so that the back label panels are facing the photo area, and “Michael’s” is written on them in black marker. I’m annoyed because they have changed the whole thing; I start to complain to someone, but he seems unconcerned.