Lettuce and other distractions of the moment

Last night, I dreamt that I bought lettuce, and a moment ago I was going to make lunch with it, but the making of lunch is happening in the realish world while the lettuce buying happened in the dreamish world. Perhaps I am sleeping too much.

In the dreamish world, I also finished the piece I am due to turn in for our meeting on Monday. In the realish world, it is a pathetic thing. My to do list is full of ephemera: catch up on work email, clean the toilet (which is analogous to writing), watch three hours of reality television, cry over ex-boyfriend, read backlogged New York Times magazine, make steak salad, write blog entry.

But the question is: how can you create David Lynch-like noise in 2D black on white? What does Florence smell like at dusk? How does your female narrator describe the chalk line between a man's welcome attention and the aggression that sets her overactive imagination toward the irrational?

Any help would be welcome.