Dreams (1 of 2): Mailbox.

The other week I dreamnt -

I'm at my childhood house and go out to the mailbox to look for the paperwork that I'm expecting for my dual citizenship application, and the lower part of the mailbox is like this milk crate on its side with two shelves of rough wood, and there on the lower shelf is this plasticene blue folder with my documents, but on the upper shelf there's this very large grey cardboard egg carton, and in some places in it are eggs, but in other places small glass jars of homemade jams, and there's a tag in the middle of it, too, somewhere, and I suddenly know that my parents have told me that that's the outgoing mail and the postman will pick it up soon, and not to interfere with it, but still I wonder how something can be mailed like that.

And then, I wake up.

. . .