Good morning, everybody.
I was in a car with my mom, my second oldest nephew, and possibly another one of my nephews. Somehow we were all sitting in the car like it was a room. The space had no seats, just the small walls and low ceiling of a car. The walls and ceiling of the car were orange. The car was filthy -- packed with all kinds of garbage and clutter.
My mom had gotten mad at me because I had tried to clean my room. However she had gotten mad at me, she had made me feel really bad about having cleaned my room. It was like this filthy car we were in was her room, and since I had cleaned my room, I was purposely making a bad statement about the filthiness of her own room. She made me feel like I was betraying her somehow.
So I was now trying to prove that I hadn't actually cleaned my room. I was even trying to prove it to myself. At some point I may even have convinced myself that this filthy car was my room.