I am sitting in a room, watching TV and wearing my bathrobe. Women from the community college, like Charlene B, come in with leftover sandwich fixings from a lunch. They have a leftover sandwich that's "juicy" and full of all the fixings they are giving me. I feel a bit embarrassed about being caught lounging around in a bathrobe and watching boring TV. Now I go into another room and I am talking to a daughter, maybe Jock's daughter Megan. She's sort of my daughter, Dovre, as well. I say to her, "I am a bit worried about Jock." I quickly reassure her that he's fine; it's just that maybe he doesn't really know what he wants to do. She sits up high on a bench up in a corner and moves some of my things off a table so she can eat. It's almost like the place she's sitting is suspended up in the air, half way to the ceiling in a corner. I am a bit annoyed with her for moving my things.