I seem to be having a romance with Rolly. I'm moving in with him, into this nice suburban house, and it's quite an ordeal, bringing my stuff over in bits and pieces. I feel very awkward about it. Rolly was here but he's gone on to work, and there's a couple of others here helping me, and then we're going somewhere together. One helper is Dan, and he's being quick and efficient but I'm slow. We get out the door and they go on to the street, but I stop at the mailbox - it's huge, with many sections like a brochure rack or something, and there's a lot of mail or something, and there's a lot of mail in it. I thumb through it, thinking maybe there's some for me - earlier at my apartment there was no mail and I was surprised - now I don't see how there could be mail for me here yet, but lo and behold, here's something for Tom Jenner delivered here by mistake, maybe my mail's here after all! There's a section for Trisha here - for some reason Rolly lets her have mail sent here when she's travelling, or between places or something. There's a lot of mail here, and the others are impatient, so I leave it and go on. We haven't gotten but a little way when the other guy mentions leaving the burner on under the teakettle. Says when Rolly gets home it might have developed into a fire or something, maybe we should turn it off. Dan says, nah, never mind, all it'll do is burn the bottom off, it's not worth going back for. So we go a few more steps, but I get nervous about it and dash back. While I'm there (this awkward, uncomfortable feeling is growing) I look around and notice how "ordinary" this house is - all neat and well-appointed (it's nicer than Lloyd's house, but likewise has no soul), but I don't want to have to give my place up for this. I observe that I haven't even given notice to the landlord yet, and here I'm moving in - if that doesn't show how reluctant I am, I don't know what does. I'm not as fond of Rolly as all that; I guess I've acted hastily again - I don't want to do this. I make up my mind to go back. I feel better. Still, we've got somewhere to go, me, Dan, and this other guy - I go on out to our vehicle (a van or bus?), and we get on the road. Somewhere at a distance we're stopped, with a large number of other vehicles part way to our destination. It's something like a traffic jam but we're gathered around something, like a kind of building, I guess, and people are milling around, driving motorcycles around, jogging, standing talking in the sun. I've got on rollerblades or something, and I'm very awkward, trying to keep out of people's way. Our other friend takes off around the circuit (on a motorcycle?) (in his underpants? - he's rather stout) and I follow him...I'm riding or driving back to where I'm staying in another town - I'm here on a special trip of some kind, a working trip, and I go somewhere during the day - working, I guess. I can see the skyline in the sunset, and I've just noticed it for real - it's certainly different from home, and I get very homesick, not suddenly, really, I've been feeling sad for a while, not realizing what it was. I wish I could go home now. The branch is remodelling, and they've set up our office cubicles - very colorful, blues and yellows - rather enclosed, with doors. At the other end of the space is a section with some soft carpet and lounge-y furniture, rather juvenile. It's unfinished, but sure looks like a children's play area. I remark on this to (Wayne Gray?), who sheepishly says, well yes, we figured it was the best place for it - out of the way and all. They won't be making that much noise, not all the time anyway... I'm very doubtful. Even if the noise isn't bad, just knowing there's nowhere you can go without being out in public is a nuisance.