Only in Dreams

Jeff and I were waiting to catch a subway at the typical dream station. A girl comes up from behind and attacks me, grabbing on to me with her arms around my neck. I struggle for a while then flip her over and she hits the ground. This whole time she had a blank expression on her face, but as she hits the ground, her eyes light up in recognition and she starts to talk with us. We go back to her place which is a rundown, one-roomed apartment where she lives with her mom. The mother is a witch with long black ratty hair that compliments her black dress, but she puts on a guise of being very nice. For some reason or another we start to wash our laundry and the dryer which is stacked on top of the washing machine is too full and starts to tip over, I’m standing there holding it up. The entire time, the mother is complaining that all of her clean clothes are spread out. One load is here, one is somewhere in the city and the other is somewhere else. Jeff and I know we’ve both overstayed our welcome. The witch leaves us with a proverb that is very short and brief, but I don’t remember it.