I was on a trial period of an administrative assistant position.  My boss was a big man like my 10th grade history teacher Mr. March.  My primary duty was to systematically turn on the air conditioner in various parts of the building using a computer.  I was also selling newspapers within the company, both in Chinese and in English.  I was happy; my job seemed easy enough to get the hang of and things were going well.  Somehow one of the newspapers was left over a candle and caught on fire.  Someone wanted me written up for my carelessness.  I was afraid that would be it and I would lose the job, but my boss asked me to make some coffee.  I abashedly admitted I didn't know how.  I tried anyway.  The receptionist told me I had another interview somewhere at 7:30 the next morning.  I tried to remember the details of this other job I was interviewing for while I was driving up a steep hill.  There was a man behind on a bike.    My mother and my friend Ray were at work with me.  My mother had a bruise on her head.  I was afraid their presence would not be taken well while I was on probationary period at work, that having guests on my first day would seem presumptuous and unprofessional.  Then in front of my maternal Grandma Jane's fireplace the family and I were looking at pictures.  My cousin Allen sounded evil about something.  My mother was in a lot of the pictures with her mouth open in a strange distressed sort of pose.