Night of 1/9/06

I traveled somewhere with my youth group, perhaps on a mission trip. The place was dry and sandy, not unlike New Mexico. When we arrived, we were met by a woman who led us to a trailer where we would be staying. The trailer was much bigger inside than it looked, but everything was cramped. There was a large living space/kitchen, with loft overhead that served as a dining room, and a basement where everyone slept. The dream then jumped to morning. I was in the kitchen making breakfast. I was trying my hardest to cook fried eggs, but each time I tried the eggs would come out scrambled. I did not want scrambled eggs, for whatever reason, so I kept starting over. Nate and Paul were standing outside the kitchen eating all the scrambled eggs I made (with ketchup, I think). Eventually I got someone else to make fried eggs for me and I went upstairs to sit down. There was very little space up in the dining loft. Laura sat across from me at the table, but to talk to her I had to lean down and put my head on the table because there was an odd, white wall that hung down from the ceiling and blocked my view of her. And I ate my fried egg. And that was all.