I was making coffee. And it was somehow normal that no liquid would fall into the coffee pot. Instead, it was this dry substance that looked like coffee grounds. The pot was dirty, and it was getting too hot. A drop of coffee-crud fell in to top left-hand side of the pot and started to catch fire. I poked it to put it out. It caught fire again. I was annoyed. I wanted my coffee. I turned around to get the nearest glass of liquid to throw on it. The sink was full of glasses and bowls full of gross standing water. I decided to get a clean dish... but by that time, the entire coffee maker was on fire and I had a stab of terror like I was about to burn down the house. I thought I must be so stupid for not cleaning it, and for being too wussy to grab the dishes with dirty water. I reached out and slamed the coffee pot off th counter and it hit the ground cracking. The dry stuff inside really was liquid coffee afterall and when I tipped it over, the contents spilled and put out the fire. It was a sort of nightmare2.
Lots of broken memories of walking from one house to another on Chehalem Dr where I used to live. I woke up early to work on my paper, but every few hours my hair would be too greesy so I'd go and take a shower. I was wearing a skirt for god knows what reason. I broke into my own house several times. I remember having to pick my way between bikes to get to the back entrance. An ex boyfriend of mine was with me studying, and he let me kiss him although it was a stupid idea. This dream had a narrative, but all that's left are fragmentary images.It sounds like things are about to explode for me. I tried to get up at 5 to work on my papers, but the 5:30 alarm was what pulled me out of my nightmare, so I slept a little more to rid myself of the scared feelings. I couldn't get out of bed until now... 7am. fuck.
Time to go make coffee.