I'm at the home of my company boss Bruce, for his birthday. A number of us are gathered, sitting around in what appears to be the foyer of his house, which has dark couches all around the walls like in a restaurant, where you'd wait for a table. Somebody comes in with some quarter-sliced tuna sandwiches, and places them on a central coffee table, for a snack. I think I eat one.

When I arrived, I let my dogs out of the car, and they are running around outside. It's rainy, they are wet, and they are sort of tearing up the yard. Charlie even seems to chew up a tuft of ornamental grass. I go out there to put them in my car, but for some reason I cannot.

Then we gather around a large table for a luxurious breakfast.