One room, a large, square room, housed the appliances and some storage. There was a washer and a dryer, a large wooden box (maybe 5 foot square, standing 4 foot high) with a lid that opened like cupboards, but up, and there was shelving all around filled with dusty old cans and jars. I never found out what was in the box – for some reason every time I reached to open it, something would distract me. I find that disconcerting (at least, in my dream I did).
There was also a freezer – more like a giant commercial ice cream display freezer with sliding glass doors on top than a typical stuff-in-the-basement freezer. It was similar in size to the strange box. I think that my purpose in being in the basement involved extracting something from the freezer, but the impossibility of that task became quickly apparent. First off, it had become “storage” for more than frozen foods – it was filled with magazines and clothes and papers and little bits of string and wire and stuff, stuff that Jesse had dumped in there when we complained that his room was a mess. More importantly, it was thoroughly compromised.
Compromised? Yes. Apparently someone had installed a game on the thing, and this game housed some sort of Trojan that then allowed all kinds of other spyware and such in. The freezer would behave erratically, bringing up windows advertising products, randomly restarting the game (which involved pirates and parrots, I believe), no matter how many times I shut it down. Every time I tried to reboot the freezer, some widget would pop up under my mouse pointer and prevent me from clicking on the reboot button. (In case you were wondering, the glass doors of the freezer doubled as a monitor for the thing.)
Some time later, Jesse had cleaned his junk out of the now-powered-down freezer, and to my surprise, he and Linda had moved everything around and re-organized the whole room. The problem with this was that this made the state of the floor painfully obvious – the whole thing was covered with dirty pink dryer lint, maybe half an inch to an inch deep, everywhere except where stuff used to be. Jesse, trying to be helpful, had gotten the vacuum cleaner and had started to suck all the lint up.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, less diplomatically perhaps than I should have been. “Do you know how many vacuum cleaner bags its going to take to suck all this stuff up?”
Jess looked at the vacuum cleaner, looked around the room. “Maybe a couple dozen?”
“You know what those things cost? They’re like $60 for a pack of three.” This is, of course, wrong. But it was true in my dream.
“So how do I clean this?”
I handed him a broom (old tech), and went off in search of trash bags.
And woke up with my left arm asleep and tingling and a dog sitting next to me, staring into my face.
Last night I was getting a drink in the kitchen before going to bed. Jesse came downstairs, on his way out, and was playing with Loki in the kitchen. I told him I was going to bed, and reminded him to turn out the lights when he left. A couple minutes later, he left. And I came back out and turned out all the lights.
I was annoyed as I was trying to go to sleep, and apparently I was still annoyed as I was trying to wake up.