I dreamt that I woke up, opened the bedroom windows and shutters, and discovered that my terrace was covered with several tables surrounded by bulky wicket armchairs that were covered with pillows. Packed closely together, the armchairs were dark brown and the pillows were beige. A young couple with three children that were not yet in their teens was sprawling around one of the tables. I could recognize none of them. Soft drinks and fluffy cakes covered the table. It all looked like the terrace of a small but posh hotel somewhere in the boondocks. Amused by the scene, I chuckled to myself and closed the window. When I woke up for true a few hours later, the scene was still with me. It was sharp. And posh was the word. I felt revolted by my dream at once. Things posh disgust me, and especially on my own terrace. I went to the bathroom to pee, but I actually felt like vomiting.