In my dream, I am at some kind of summer camp. I'm guessing I'm in my late teens or early 20's since that's the age of the other "campers," but I'm not sure of that. We are in one of the camp buildings -- one that has the kitchen facilities in it.
Some kind of Camp Councilor (whom I never see, but we all hear his voice) is announcing that I am going to prepare an egg dish for breakfast. The announcement is something like, "And so, the person delegated to cook the eggs this morning is... Randy Lyons!" And everyone cheers -- somewhat derisively, but completely in good humor. As if the chances of Randy being successful in this endeavor are slim.
I am now standing in front of a bowl with eggs that have been cracked open and poured into the bowl. I see the egg yolks surrounded by the egg whites. I take a fork and begin to stir the contents of the bowl and watch the egg yolks break and blend with the whites.
I am now at the stove -- one of those big black stoves -- with a large, rectangular pan in front of me. I watch as the stirred up eggs are gently slid into the pan and the contents are gently stirred. I don't see my hands doing this; it's as if a third person is magically doing this.
Much to my surprise, the egg concoction turns out to be quite edible and my fellow campers cheer the success. Conversation is lively and pleasant.
But nobody thanks me.
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