I spent all last night editing and revising a short story I’m working on. I finally ripped myself away from the computer with my head swirling, filled with grammar and words. I needed to “veg-out” as they say. I’m not sure who “they” are but you know what I mean.

I go downstairs to watch T.V. It’s 2:15 a.m, I sit down and put it on a movie channel and I don’t remember anything else. I fell asleep so fast. I woke up and the screen on the T.V was all black. I turned the television off and went to bed. I laid my head down and this happened.

I was in a cooking competition. I was listening to instructions, and they were as follows.

Construct a soup of your choice and you must serve it 6 times. Each time you must change something about it.

Then it jumps to me cooking. I’m tasting the soup and I smell and taste mushrooms. I think, yes I love mushroom soup, it’s comfort soup and the judges will love that. I hear a countdown and I know I need to plate the soup.


I have to get the soup just right and I place small bits of black truffle on the top of the soup and I serve the judges.

They loved it!! Round 2.

I decide to put some nutmeg this time and I have to use the grinder and I can’t find it. Two minute warning!!

I begin to freak out. I am opening and closely cupboards with agitated actions.

“Where is the grinder?” I say. I know someone has moved it. It’s usually in this cupboard and I always put things back. This is why I hate people touching my things. Then it jumps.

I have graded nutmeg on my soup and then the countdown.


I serve the judges and get mixed reviews. Now I am really angry, at myself and to the person that moved my grinder.

On to phase 3.

I am thinking about what else I can do to the soup and I am still angry about the grinder. Time is passing-by and I go to plate the soup again, but there’s something wrong.

The soup has turned to a paste. Like mashed potatoes.

I have to add water and milk and I know too much will water it down and I have to season it all over again. So much work!


I hear the countdown. 4..3..2

I go to serve the judges and I know I’m late but where are they?

No one is in the room anymore, did they move? I go looking for them. I hear people talking outside. I look through a window and see a crowd outside. I open the door and start asking,

Why didn’t anyone tell me we were moving outside?” I needed to know these things.

I knew I was going to be disqualified. I was very angry now but wait, there’s something familiar about this place. I’m standing at the entrance of the home I grew up in, in Oakville Ontario. Everyone was standing at the front door over to the left where there was a small area with grass and a walk path to the backyard.

I woke up. The first thought in my head was, oh it was a dream.


I forced myself to remember it. It wasn’t that hard to remember actually. Guess what my favourite letter and number is now?