When I came home from work I went straight to the bathroom, I had been holding it too long and I was in a fog. When I exited the bathroom, I noticed that the house was not as I had left it. There were little scraps of paper spread out evening all over the floor. I walked into the bedroom where I saw my roommates AP and WS playing videogames on the TV. (Real people, not real roommates). They ignored me as I reached down and picked one up, it had my name on it. As realization dawned on me, they burst out laughing. They had written a hundred uplifting notes to me and scattered them all over the floor as a treat. I thought it was sweet. I read one, but it didn't make any sense. It had a quote from a movie - I felt like maybe they had paid the celebrity to say that to me, but then I thought maybe they had just pulled the quote. Everyone seemed to get the message but me, I couldn't figure out what they meant.
I walked into the kitchen picking up slips of paper when a girl walks in. She has kind of a ruddy complexion and seems a very small bit overworked. She walks in the kitchen door and grabs an apple. I ask what her name is and she answers that it's Colette. She's going back to college and also has a husband and three kids - the kids don't live in the house, but she lives there after being invited by AP and WS. I'm polite to her, but I'm totally put out that my roommates would invite a fourth roommate to come live in my house without checking with me first. I didn't want a fourth roommate, and the more I thought about it, I didn't want the third and the second either!
Another man walks in with a similar ruddy complexion to Colette. I think, "Great, her husband lives here too." This is really starting to feel unfair, but also strange because she doesn't acknowledge him. I say, "Sorry, who in the world are you?" He replies, "I'm Gene McHugh - I'm the guy that's been eating all the food." Sure enough, I remember many instances where food has gone missing. I feel so violated that this boy off the street has been coming into my house without permission to eat my food. "Get out, get off my property, and don't ever step foot on it again!" He walks out as I am still screaming at him, "How long have you been doing this?!?" He answers, "Too long," as he slowly walks across the yard.
I go outside and see more people out on my porch. Several are people from the past that I know but can't remember now. A few of my cousins are there. I am complaining about Gene, but they don't think I should file a police report. It seems like an unusual amount of company for me to be having. (It had a very Mother-esque vibe (the movie Mother), but while I noticed the similarities as soon as I woke up, I haven't seen that movie for a long time and I don't think it necessarily came from there.)
(This is where the dream gets a little controversial, again.)
I hear the familiar rumbling of the UPS truck. I grab a package that I need to return and go to meet the driver by the gate. He is not alone, there is a driver I don't recognize training with him. She isn't a new driver, just new to this route, and she is getting a tour because she is in a wheelchair and my regular driver is showing her which ways to go that she can manage in her chair. My regular guy tells me under his breath that he put in an automatic open code on the gate. I ask him, also under my breath, "What's the code? You know, just in case." He tells me, "It's 4321." I start to ramble, "Thanks, that's good to know, I don't think I'm going to need it - - - uh, uh, because, and I'm so grateful for this, I don't typically have trouble with the gate, which is really fortunate, not that there's a problem with someone having trouble with it, uh, uh..." I'm explaining to them about the package, it is a box of dog food cans and a big bag of dry, it has Marie's address on it, but I know neither one of us ordered it. All the while, I was getting really stressed about the new driver. I could in no way envision how it would be possible for her to deliver packages alone with her disability. She had small arms with limited functioning. I was, at the same time, admiring her overcoming of obstacles, and planning how I would have to stop having dog and cat food delivered because the packages would be too heavy and cumbersome.
Later, I got out my phone to find the video surveillance of Gene. I couldn't find him walking in to the house for some reason, which made me walk that fine line between dream and awareness. (I may have been sleeping fitfully at this point). I opened the app for my old cameras and realized that they would show the inside of the house in a very 8-bit looking video. I see that gene is represented by a little Musketeer and on the image I can see him entering the house and laying low while people are home, but then rummaging through the fridge, and going upstairs and rolling around on all the beds. I also see him grabbing a family portrait of a severe looking woman in a corset (which doesn't exist) and rolling around with it on the bed, which is disrespectful.
