bottles and fire.

I was at a used everything store, checking out.
I looked down into a cart filled with clear glass bottles and began picking some out. There were uniquely shaped bottles that I had to have. The old woman at the cashier had poofy white curls, clearly shaped by curlers over the previous night. Her skin was mostly wrinkles and her body skeletal without any fat padding her bones. She looked down into the cart, then up at me, and said "Take whatever you like hun! They're all yours!" I continued to grab more bottles, now gleefully, and held them in my arms. Maia was with me. She gave me an encouraging smile, sort of a "I don't think those bottles are as great as you clearly do, but I appreciate that you're happy" smile.

Later I was in a living room with Maryann, Leeta, Vanessa, Evan, and others that weren't specific. We were sitting on couches. The living room was tiny, maybe seven feet at the widest parts. We had just baked something. Leeta began complaining about how she was hungry, but that the opportunity to eat the brownie had passed. So we looked to the oven, thinking of making more for her. Looking at the oven, we collectively realized there was a fire coming from one of the metal trays. I said "guys I think the oven is on. we should turn it off, then the fire will stop." They didn't think that could possibly be the case, and I didn't want to turn a switch in protest of my opinion, and in turn get them all pissed at me, so I just sat there, worrying.
The fire got bigger. It was spreading across the metal rods of the tray, then to the back of the oven, then to another tray. I called the police. Everyone else frantically ran around the house.
I told them there was a fire in our oven. They said to unplug everything incase the fire spread through the wires. We did that. On the phone, the woman was really calm. She wasn't sending anyone to help, she was just talking me through it, like a counselor trying to prevent a suicide attempt might. It was frustrating. All the while I knew it just needed to be turned off. So after a sufficient amount of time on the phone with this woman I pushed a red button. This button was on my belt...? All of the other lit up buttons on the side of the oven died and the fire stopped immediately.
"Look guys. It did just need to be turned off! See."
"Oh yeah, look at that." They all said, hardly surprised or even interested.

I seriously wish this song had been playing in my dream:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKu2QaytmrM