I was working on a painting and it was not going well. This must have been a flashback to art school because I was sitting at a table with other people while I was working. Part of the painting was abstract but I was trying to do this illustrational thing up in one corner. Someone showed me a book of cartoony drawings done in gouache or acrylic that looked like a cross of Robert Williams and David Sandlin. They were really good and just made me frustrated that my own piece wasn't going well. I started heaping paint on my canvas, giant crinkly wads of it, so that it was sliding off the sides and getting all over the table and my hands.

Just then, a college friend of mine walked in and sat down at the table. He was a heavy set individual, and brought with him a breakfast tray groaning with food. Three or four stacks of pancakes, each stack about 8 or 10 pancakes high, giant heaps of bacon strips, everyone at the table was staring in awe at the food, which looked like an art installation (and was certainly more interesting than my painting).

Update: Freudian explanation: my landlord has been varnishing the floor outside my apt. and my downstairs neighbor likes to cook bacon and eggs.