trapped out of politeness by Gnudi Hincklebein, vaccuum enthusiast

I’m visiting someone, or sometimes it’s unclear who is visiting whom, but I don’t really like her apartment. She spends a lot of time cleaning while I am there. Vacuuming, especially. I am in the bedroom, which doubles as the living room. There is a window overlooking the parking lot, and a small wooded creek just beyond. We’re only a few stories up, maybe only one, even.

There are two bunk bed loft things in the room, and extra mattresses that are leaning against the wall. We’ve had dinner (separately). I’m sort of like a caged animal here, she closes the door when she leaves, and out of politeness and something else, I stay put and eat my food, take my nap, etc. But she is very happy to have me there. She reminds me somewhat of K. or L., people who are always a bit weirdly upbeat for no reason to the extent they seem a bit mentally or emotionally compromised. She’s blonde and short, but slightly chubby.

There are occasional guests, like one guy I don’t recognize, shortish, round, with slightly greasy black hair. He seems to know me, and mentions a theater or gig or production or something where I apparently want to sing. I have no idea what he’s talking about but I try to go along with it. When he leaves, the woman tells me he is able to get me a job there, that’s why she talked to him beforehand.

Then at some point I find some pieces of a small white pill on my finger, and I swallow them, even though I’m still trying to figure out what medication it could possibly be. I decide it can’t kill me, based on nothing at all. Later I find another small white pill, whole, but I present that back to her. She says what it’s for, but I can’t understand. Diabetes? Hypothyroid? Something like that. She keeps vacuuming.

At the end of the dream I got her name, but I already forgot the first part. Something Indian-seeming (to me, anyway). Something like Gnudi. The last name was like Hincklebein.