A dream of used teabags.

The other week I dreamnt -

I'm somewhere in a sunny kitchen in (Australia), and I'm not there but it's like a movie playing inside my head, and I watch two (middle middle-aged) (white) women just talking, and they're drinking mugs of tea, and one goes to set one teabag up on or pull one teabag down from rows of used teabags on the counter, which is like a wall of them over two feet high and like four feet wide, just neatly sitting up on the counter and filling up the space right up to right underneath the hanging wall cabinets, all for some reason having to do with conservation.

. . .

(When I make tea like rooibos or rooibos chai, I often use the teabag three or sometimes even four times, before I throw it out.)