Dream: We are living in a grain silo on a frontage road in Amarillo, Texas. I hear sirens and go outside to see several fire trucks, one the size of a naval destroyer, scream past at a very high speed, then come back the other direction with hoses attached. They stop on the other end of our building, which is on fire. I go inside to close all the doors to smother the fire to discover that a vast empty warehouses with dirt floors. A ramp leads to a man with a shovel, about which I am curious, but am forced to continue closing doors with the help from a woman I don’t know.
I am then parking a semi, I guess at the silo. I remove a headset and try with great frustration to find a place to plug it in despite all the commotion about the fire.
I am then house-sitting for a friend. I hear a commotion in the back yard, and open a window to see some of my friend’s friends staging a fake funeral with a chopped-up side of beef in a coffin. It then dawns on me that all the furniture in this house is made of chopped-up, uncooked beef.
Psychology usually annoys me, but I’d like to know just enough about it now to analyze this dream. You must have a fascinating brain. You should donate it to science.
Not yet. I am still using it.