I hate dreaming about tofu.

I like tofu. I like to cook it. I like to eat it. I don't mind buying it.

But I really don't like dreaming about huge, wobbly, skyscraper-high towers of gleaming white tofu. It's just too unsettling of an image for my 5:00 a.m. wake-up call. Particularly when the towers of tofu are so tall, you're afraid they will fall over and suffocate you in bean curd.