Kristi the Gem Poached Eggs for Me, the Jerk

I had this long involved and hilarious dream last night but I'm struggling to remember more than this one piece. In the piece I remember I was kind of a jerk I'm embarrassed and pretty amused to say. I called my friend Kristi - who with her lovely hubby threw a fabulous Dirty Santa party last night - and demanded that she cook eggs for all the party guests on the following morning to help with our hangovers. Kristi, being the gem she is, agreed and then we were all back at their house sitting on bar stools waiting impatiently for Kristi to make us eggs.

And as if I hadn't been enough of brat, I then insist that Kristi poach the eggs because "it is SOOO much healthier that way". So dear Kristi starts poaching eggs, one by one in boiling water. She carefully lifts the wobbly eggs out from the water and lays them on a porcelain white platter.

And that's all I can remember at this moment other than at one point we were all at Manuel's Tavern (a political mainstay in Atlanta) and my sister lobbyist friend Shelley and I escape from a creepy legislator via an elevator that has no walls, the carpeted floor just starts falling or rising.