Remodel the Attic
This was one of the tasks my mother gave me. The reason was so that her friend could sleep there. I am not sure why, it seems that Mrs. Zax needed to. Clearly it was imperative. So I descend upon this task with great fury. The house I am in is a hybrid of the Capo Beach and Seabright house. Mrs. Zax brings over a gold metal bead with flower print. It looks like it would only fit one person comfortably, likely a twin. So we add the the floor and some lights to the attic, which is more spacious than it should be. My siblings complain about how the attic is too small, which in my dream it is most certainly not. I call friends over. We move the bed literally from the game room into the attic without disassembling it. Someone sets up a time lapse of the experience which we watch later. The person who did this would be associated with Mr. Rousseau in real life. Mr. Kingston, the giant, is capable of making the bed in one swift motion. There is also a girl there that always needs to pass gas. After that my girlfriend and I are at a gas station. We have some conversation about one of her friends. A metal rack on wheels rolls past. I pick up Red Vines. The end.