I'm behind the bar at the restaurant, and I'm trying to be funny. I'm obsessing on cutlery, and the perfect roll up. I look up and realize that everyone is watching me. One man in the back row looks really upset. I walk over to him and ask if he's ok. He is really pissed off about his fork, he says. The tines are bent. I say I'm really sorry and walk away. Then I walk back and start to tell him a funny joke, but I can't seem to remember the punchline.
I think I might be sick of the restaurant. I seem to be obsessing on it quite a lot right now. And dreaming about it. Not good. Not good at all.