trout fishing

I had some snippets the other night:

• I was on a trip with my parents, sister, grandmother and husband to Italy. We needed to find a place to stay, and everyone was embroiled in discussion about whether the place we had found was acceptable (it was one big room with summer-camp-style single beds) or whether we should try to find another place even though it was getting a little late. Instead of enjoying the fact that I was in Italy, all I could think of was what a pain the trip was going to be if every day involved so much negotiation and discussion.
• I was rooting around in a refrigerator that looked exactly like our refrigerator currently does in real life: haphazardly stuffed with bags of produce of varying age. This tired me out and disgusted me in its blatant imitation of the more prosaic aspects of my life.
• I was at work, and my boss wanted me to knit a few things. One of them was a sleeve-like object, and there was also a swatch or two. I'm not sure what these were to be used for, but it was apparently a critical part of a project (projects where I work have absolutely nothing to do with textiles of any sort). I was really stressed, but I couldn't think of a way to tell him that his expectations were unrealistic and I would never have time to finish knitting the things.

When I got to work I told my boss about the knitting dream, and he countered by saying that he had dreamed that he had a trout stream running through his house. His wife, though, was tired of trout and told him he needed to find a neighbor's house with a salmon stream (apparently all the houses in his neighborhood had fully stocked in-house streams).