I was at home one afternoon when a moving truck pulled up across the street.  I was very pleased when a family with an attractive daughter started moving into the house.  As soon as the moving truck pulled away, I stepped outside, waiting for the attractive daughter to come out so that I might make her acquaintance.  Shortly, she did; her name was Veranda.

Apparently, my subconscious did not wish to get involved in a privacy/identity theft lawsuit.  The young lady looked very much like a certain young lady where I work named Amanda.  My subconscious merely altered her name and appearance slightly.  I'm certain that, had the dream come to a proper conclusion, a legal disclaimer would have appeared, stating: "All names and images in this dream are fictitious; any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or deceased, are purely coincidental."

At any rate, I talked with Veranda briefly, and made my amorous intentions known.  This being a dream, she was delighted, and scampered off.

Suddenly, I was back in my house, lounging around in my parent's old room, wearing no shirt, in front of a TV with a football game playing.  (I detest sports).  There was a sharp knock at the front door, and suddenly, a very fierce-looking old woman was standing in the room with me.  Immediately, I knew she was Veranda's mother, and I was being scrutinized as a possible mate for her daughter.  She noted that the carpet was "not acceptable," and went on to find many flaws in both the house and my character.  The phone rang, and she glared at it for having the audacity to ring.  I couldn't stop it from ringing, and just as Veranda's mother was about to yell at me, I woke up.

In Real Life, the phone was ringing, but as I was not yet entirely awake, I answered it, hoping that it was Veranda.  Sadly, it was not.  A not-gentleman by the name of Richard started speaking to me, telling me why I should consider signing up for a Providence National Bank Visa Card.  I was irritated.  I looked at the clock, and was even more irritated when I saw that it was 8:17 in the morning, and I became fully awake.  "Excuse me," I said, "am I mistaken, or is it not yet 8:30 in the morning?"  Richard said, "Yes, it is about 8:20."  I replied, "What on earth are you doing calling me at 8:20 in the morning when you are not Veranda?"